


Sunflower Seeds IV thru VI

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-03-15
Updated: 2001-03-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 06:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 44,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11330172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Skinner and Mulder enjoying R&R (retirement and rest) in seclusion, until Krycek, in need of sanctuary, appears in their midst. Can they accept him into their life, or will his presence tear them apart?





	Sunflower Seeds IV thru VI

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Sunflower Seeds I by Jami Wilsen

TITLE: Sunflower Seeds IV: Winter  
ARCHIVE: RatB, Persuaders  
FEEDBACK:   
DISCLAIMER: this piece of slash fanfic is written purely for entertainment purposes; all characters and X-File series' situations referred to belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, FOX.  
PAIRING: Sk/M/K  
SEQUEL/CONTINUATION: yes, 4th  
SPOILERS: Spoilers for En Ami, and - well, the Mytharc and the entire series. God knows why anyone would mind at this late date, but there you are. You've been warned.  
RATING: NC-17 - language, slashy m/m sex  
WARNING: No discipline in this one; sorry, but it just worked out that way! Heavy ANGST factor in this one, too! I ended up scrapping original outline as this one took on a life of it's own. See the next chapter to find closure and resolution of this one here.  
SUMMARY: In the dead of winter, close and closeted together, the threesome explores the finer points of forgiveness, love and solitude. But winter can be cold.  
BETAS: Many, many grateful thanks to Jas, Candace, Lorelei and Jennie!

* * *

Sunflower Seeds IV

Winter  
by Jami Wilsen

Alex opened his eyes in the bright light streaming in from the window. Sunlight - made all the brighter by its reflection off of the snow covering the ground outside. The sound of soft breathing next to him made him turn his head and a slow smile crept over his face. Fox. A sleeping Fox, at that. The pure indulgence and contentment of watching Fox breathe as he slept warmed Alex from the inside out. The sunlight falling on Fox's skin gave him an entirely edible appearance: the man had a burnished glow about him that was nearly irresistible. Alex sighed, happily. He raised his head higher. Wow; Walter was still here too. He'd woken before either of them this time. They both looked so peaceful.

He felt rejuvenated. Well, it was hardly surprising, considering the good food, easy living, outdoor exercise and the steady diet of sex he had enjoyed the past few days... Not to mention the loving. Alex felt like he really was in heaven. This golden light everywhere only added to that impression. Never had the morning seemed so hopeful and happy to him. Not just another day. It was one more day in this place he'd finally begun to call home. He closed his eyes and reveled in the warmth. His smile wouldn't leave - refused to leave. It stayed on his face. He turned his head again and looked at Fox. He was torn between the desire to either slowly kiss him awake or let him rest. But, both of his lovers looked exhausted. He decided to let them be.

He breathed deeply, silently, drinking in the beauty of the morning light and the comfort of being in this bedroom with the two of them. It still felt like he was living out a dream. He couldn't take it for granted. Hell, how could he, when he valued it so greatly? There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep hold of this. There was nothing he would do to jeopardize it. If it was a dream, he just prayed he wouldn't wake up.

Morning! Alex hadn't felt this joyful and awake, this happy about life, since he had been very young. He rose from the bed soundlessly and gathered up his clothes, slipping out of the room and going to the bathroom to shower. After dressing in jeans and a flannel shirt, he went downstairs, pausing to watch as the morning sun shone in through the large windows in the living room. The light made everything beautiful and for the first time in many long years, Alex felt a pure peace descend into his heart and being. It was more than a sense of belonging; it was home. Home at last. Home is where the heart is, he mused. And the two men sleeping upstairs certainly had his heart now. He grinned and turned to the kitchen.

Potato latkes. He wondered if Walter was familiar with them. Alex himself was probably less Russian than Walter was, but he still had a fondness for them; his mother used to make them and he had never forgotten them. They were much like hash browns but with more substance, quality and taste. They were just - better.

Grinning to himself as he began to prepare the potatoes, Alex recalled the previous night. Not only had the aurora been spectacular and surprising, so had the preceding events. He never believed he would be accepted into the middle of their relationship or their bed quite so soon. A little shudder of desire coursed through him at the mere thought of it; it had been so good. So hot. Being sandwiched between the two of them... Damn. His inattentive reverie rewarded him with a cut finger. He grinned and stuck his finger in his mouth, wondering if he could expect a repeat performance tonight.

He had laid the table and was finishing off the last of the latke mix, carefully creating little cakes in the pan, when he felt the presence of someone coming down the stairs. They entered the living room and then came to stand in the kitchen doorway. It was Mulder; he could tell even without looking at him. He placed the cover over the pan and put the spatula down, taking the bowl and the other implements to the sink before looking up with a cheerful grin. "Good morning."

"Morning. The smell has carried all the way upstairs; I had to come down and see for myself." Mulder regarded him with a little smile. "You're in a good mood." He came forward, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he moved right up against Alex - who drew in a breath. Mulder slowly backed him against the sink, pulled him tight against him and hugged him, before kissing him warmly on the cheek and letting him go. Sitting down at the kitchen table, Mulder asked, "How did you sleep? You didn't have any nightmares, did you?"

Alex blinked, still trying to recover, returning to the stove to hide his hot face. Damn, why was it that all it took was a hug and a kiss to make him so flustered? Well, this was Fox, his Fox. Right. So. "No. Uh, no, I didn't. I guess I felt safe or something. Must've been the company."

Mulder watched as Alex busied himself with the food, knowing full well how awkward he felt. He could see the signs of it written all over him. He chuckled silently to himself. Alex was so cute like this. Leaning his chin on the hand he'd propped up on his elbow, Mulder said, dreamily, "Well, you are. Safe. I was wrong about you. Having you here is - good. It's really nice."

Alex turned slightly and met his eye. "Yeah. It's nice to be here." He turned back to the stove, flipping the latkes over to brown on the other side. "Never would have believed it could happen, though."

Mulder watched Alex as he moved, putting ingredients away in cupboards and back in the fridge. "I know. It's surreal. But, hey, we thrive on the surreal and the bizarre. It's what makes our lives interesting."

Alex lifted his brows. "Yours, maybe. I'm looking forward to just living for a while. You know, here with you guys. Not being on the run. Not having to worry about faceless aliens and smallpox carriers. Or being taken out by some hotshot who thinks he's doing the world a favor. Or-" Alex stopped short, realizing that he really didn't want to bring up being smothered by black oiliens at the moment. That particular subject was unpalatable and hardly conducive to an enjoyable breakfast, or a peaceful interlude with Mulder.

Mulder thoughtfully chewed his lip. "I know. But I was referring to the fact that love is surreal, far more so than alien intelligence. To me, anyway. I grew up with the mystery of the unknown but not with simple human contact - that was fraught with guilt and tension. Alex, we know how you feel right now because we felt the same way when we first arrived. It's hard to settle down. When we got here, it was a bit of a shock. Like culture shock, you know? All peace, quiet and wilderness. It's a far cry from DC, that's for sure."

Alex chuckled. "You don't say. Listen, do you want these now? They're good when they're hot."

"Sure." Mulder answered distractedly. He continued with his train of thought, "Besides, now that you're here and we're all together, and friends and everything, maybe you could finally tell me all the secrets you had access to, all those things that I've always wanted to know."

Alex slid several of the latkes onto Mulder's plate with a quizzical frown. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you were in the Consortium. You had access to all the dirt. You probably know more about our private lives than we do. So, spill. What can you tell me?" Mulder grinned at him.

Alex sat down, pouring a glass of juice before tucking into his own food. "You're going to have to be more specific than that. What exactly do you want to know?"

When Mulder didn't respond, Alex looked up and saw the distracted expression on his face; Mulder was staring at him. "What? What is it?"

Mulder slowly shook his head once. "It's just such a novelty, to be sitting here with you, like this. And to have you actually willing to tell me what I want to know."

Alex's gaze flickered and he swallowed. It was hard to concentrate on what Mulder was saying; particularly when he got that wonderful dreamy look in his eyes. He wanted to sit and stare back at Mulder all day long, and never look away. He cleared his throat and took a drink of juice. And then laughed, once. "You're right. You've finally got me, here, right where you want me." He shrugged. "It's a fair deal." He smiled, looking right into Mulder's gaze, head-on, not looking away. "Let me love you and in return I'll tell you anything you want to know."

Mulder lifted a brow. "The truth."

Alex nodded. "Of course. Anything else would be pointless now, wouldn't it?"

Mulder licked his lips; he didn't reply. Just continued to stare at him, with that enigmatic look in his eyes that made it hard to gauge just what he was really thinking.

Alex looked back up at him, his fork suspended over his plate. "What is it - why d'you keep looking at me like that?"

"You are without a doubt," Mulder said, slowly, "one of the sexiest - the most gorgeous - one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen."

Alex was paralyzed, staring back at him, completely floored. How the hell was he supposed to respond to this? He knew he was blushing and cursed inwardly. He had no reason to think Mulder wasn't serious - and it didn't sound like he was flirting with him. He blinked, and then looked down in his confusion.

Mulder turned back to his own plate and took a bite, saying as if nothing had happened, "You're right. These are good."

"What - just what exactly do you want to know?" Alex asked again, when he could find his voice.

Mulder's eyes twinkled. "I want the juicy details. What else?"

"Juicy details?" Alex repeated, unsure what Mulder was driving at.

"Yeah, you know! Who was sleeping with who, and all of that." Mulder had on his mischievous grin, once more.

Understanding dawned; Alex realized Mulder was after all those secrets that made up the Consortium's blackmail material. Difficult to decide, here; should he go ahead and spill all of it to Mulder, or claim his conscience wouldn't let him? Realizing Mulder wouldn't buy it, he cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his plate. "Alright. Who did you have in mind? And -" he added, suddenly pointing with his fork, "- I don't know everything, remember that. Just, first of all, tell me why you need to know. Why is it so important?"

Mulder was still grinning at him. "Come on, Alex. It's important to me to fully understand the psychological motivations that those people have had, to understand why they acted the way that they did. It would explain some of the more ambiguous and strange behavior I've seen. Matters of the heart are often more revealing than outward actions and appearances. Just look at what happened between us. It would clear up the unspoken and unknown factors that have driven events, particularly considering the number of people involved and the power they held. The interrelationships are fascinating to me."

Alex shrugged. "Fair enough. So who do you want to know about?"

Mulder downed the last of his final latke. "Are there more?" As Alex helpfully got up and retrieved three more for Mulder's plate and one for his own, Mulder continued, "Well, there's Marita Covarrubias, for one."

Alex shot him a look. "Give me a break. You know she had a thing for me."

"No way - she had a soft spot for me." But Mulder was smiling.

Alex smiled back him. "Believe me, we had something hotter than you ever did. But it really wasn't worth it. It didn't mean anything. I got screwed several times over on that one. Besides, I wouldn't trade what I have here for anyone in the world." And he regarded Mulder with a softer look.

It was Mulder's turn to flush slightly and twist in his seat. "So, who else was there for you?"

Alex finally realized what Mulder was doing. He grinned at him. "Mulder, if you want to know all the people I've been involved with, why don't you just ask?"

"I don't," Mulder protested. "Well, I do. But not just that. I want to know about the others, too."

"I don't think this is... Fox, I'm going to have to ask you to promise me you won't divulge any of this to Scully, okay?"

"Scully? What does she have to do with this?"

"Well, her sister -" Alex stopped, wondering if this was wise.

Mulder stared at him. "Melissa? What about her?"

Alex licked his lips and regarded Mulder, askance. "I don't - I don't want you to get upset about this, alright? Melissa and I... I wasn't happy that she died. We had a fling... We were involved at one point. I wasn't happy that she was killed, and I was really glad I wasn't the one who shot her, believe me. I didn't like what happened. But they got to her; she was supposed to kill Dana, that same night. The Smoker had ordered her brainwashed; you know what sleepers are? Apparently it took quite some doing; she was her sister, after all. Hypnotherapeutic suggestion over time - I'm sure you get the picture. I didn't realize what Melissa's actual part was until we arrived at Dana's place; hell, even she didn't know. Then Luis was supposed to kill Melissa, which of course I didn't find out about until afterwards." Alex stopped, pausing. Mulder seemed calm. He continued, "The Brit tried to warn Dana... Walter knows; she told him at the time... Come on, don't tell me you didn't know that, at least? She suspected Walter was her would-be assassin."

Mulder regarded him thoughtfully. "The Brit never actually said who it was; he merely inferred it. It was my understanding that he led her to believe she was in danger and that someone close to her might do it, or that two gunmen would show up to kill her - and as a matter of fact, you and Luis Cardinale did. And she suspected Walter, at the time. So," Mulder shrugged. "Fairly conclusive, I'd say - could be either Melissa or you two. And knowing how they used to operate, I'd say it was both options. But with things being what they are right now, I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt at this point."

How generous of you, Alex sneered silently, with more than a touch of the old sarcasm. He glanced down at his plate, then back up at Mulder, keeping his expression carefully neutral. He didn't want to let Mulder know that he really was getting to him.

Alex sighed; he could see this was bound to get out of hand. He didn't want to ruin this beautiful morning with this kind of discussion but he knew that Mulder would pursue it anyway, regardless of how long it took for him to wear Alex down. And besides, they did have to go over some of this stuff; he couldn't pretend it had never happened. He just wished it didn't have to be right now.

He didn't look at Mulder. He was getting defensive and all it had taken for Mulder to force him back into this old pattern was a few words. Why, Alex wondered, is it still so easy for Mulder to hurt me? All he has to do is point the finger and suddenly I'm right back where I was before: the outcast, the unworthy.

It was obvious that Mulder was all too easy when it came to getting into bed with him... Surprising, considering how Mulder already had Walter. But reaching his sense of forgiveness was undoubtedly going to be a monumental task, despite Mulder's own claims to the contrary. He just hoped that it wouldn't require him to be bleeding, on his knees - or dying in front of him - before Mulder would take him at his word. Alex wanted to stop the whole conversation. He shouldn't have expected Mulder to get over the past and Alex's 'transgressions', just because they'd had sex. And Alex was willing to forego the bedroom affairs if they could just find a way to live together without violent confrontations.

Mulder saw how Alex was shrinking back into himself and uncomfortably realized that he'd better watch what he said to him now.

Don't want another scene, after all. Jesus, this is just like being married, Mulder grumbled to himself.

But Mulder liked sharing this kind of gossip; getting the inside dirt on the Consortium, and he wasn't willing to let it go, now. "What about Fowley? Diana? She loved me - I know she did." Mulder's voice had all the self-absorbed quality of a teenager trying to convince himself that it was true, refusing to hear his friends when they tried to tell him that the girl just didn't want him.

Alex did sneer this time, not bothering to hide his dislike of the Fowley woman. "Yeah, she loved you. But she loved herself more. See, she had a thing for the smoking bastard, too. She liked him. Didn't trust him, but she did like him. She was always her own number one priority. Come on, you knew that, Mulder. Don't look so hurt."

"I'm not. I feel sick. She had a thing for that black-lunged son of a bitch?!"

"Mildly. Why do you think she hated Scully?"

Mulder stared at Alex. "She didn't hate Scully, Scully hated her. Because I loved Diana."

Alex gave a twisted smile. "Right. Because Scully loved you. But you see, Dana was - " he stopped. "Oh, right. You don't know."

"Know what?" Mulder stared at him suspiciously, edging forward on his seat.

Alex took a deep breath. "The Smoker had a thing for Dana, big time. He wasn't lying when he told her that."

"What?" Mulder looked blank and a little perturbed, showing the beginnings of outrage.

Alex sighed and drained his glass of juice, sitting back in his chair. "Remember the whole fiasco with that Department of Defense contact, Cobra? That promise of a new genetic science; a breakthrough cure for cancer and all human disease? The Smoker was using Scully's email to contact Cobra and set up a meeting." He saw Mulder's thoughtful nod and continued, "He convinced her to go with him to the rendezvous so he could have Cobra neutralized and destroy the findings. He got her to trust him, and deliberately led her into something he knew she would feel she couldn't involve you in. It was all bullshit, of course. You know that much. He used her. But he really did care about her. He saved her life; took out the marksman who took out Cobra. Barely in time, too, from what I heard."

Mulder's eyes narrowed. "Okay. So that's why she said that when she looked into his eyes... She believed he was telling her the truth."

"Of course. And everyone knows that Scully had it bad - for you."

"So, let me get this straight." Mulder sounded appalled. "Spender had my mother, Cassandra, Diana, and he wanted my partner, as well?" Mulder said, his scorn and revulsion all too clearly stemming from an automatic reaction to protect Scully.

"Yep. Although I wouldn't call it 'love', exactly, where that bastard was concerned."

"Yeah, that goes without saying. Okay. God, that's - sick." Mulder frowned, thinking. "My mom... And of course Cassandra was... But what about Jeffrey? Jeffrey Spender? Who did he like? Fowley? He trusted her."

"No, he -"

"Marita, then?"

Alex stopped with a half-smile at Mulder. "You're fishing. You don't have to. Let me finish. Fowley was -"

"Enough about Diana, already," Mulder squirmed. "Who did Jeff want?"

Alex paused and looked sardonically out the window. "Me."

Mulder's brows rose considerably. "You?" Another grin spread over him.

"Yeah." Alex chuckled wryly and looked down at the salt and peppershaker between them. "I knew that one of the Rebels had infiltrated the group but unfortunately so did Spender, Old Spender. So Spender had his son go visit the rebel 'replacement' and kill him, as a test, only Jeff choked. I had to do the job for him. Hey," Alex shrugged, "I had to choose which was more important. I figured turning Jeff against his father would actually benefit us more - plus if the rebel lived, the Smoker would have figured it out, seeing as I was supposed to be watching Jeff's back, anyway. You realize that's why Jeff gave you back the X-Files, don't you?" Alex caught Mulder's eye. "He paid for that with his life. And I'm partly to blame, because he was completely clueless, Mulder. It was sad. He had no idea his father was just using him."

"Poor Cassandra. I feel more sorry for her," murmured Mulder, thinking back to when he had indeed sided with Jeffrey against Scully, dismissing Cassandra as a flaked-out delusional paranoid. "Cancerman killed him?"

"Of course. Who else?"

"I thought so."

Alex regarded him. "You thought I did it, didn't you?"

Mulder took a breath. "At first. And what about you? Did you sleep with him?"

Alex almost choked on a laugh. "With Jeff? No way."

"Why not?" Mulder grinned.

"He wasn't my type." Alex said in a dry voice

"No? The Brit, then? He must've had a thing for you, too."

"The Brit was like a mentor to me." Alex's voice was getting tighter. "Aren't you projecting here, just a little? Are you jealous, Mulder?"

Mulder grinned again. "Alex, cool down. I just think you aren't aware of the fact that other people may have found you sexy, attractive and irresistibly good-looking, that's all. I mean, come on! I think even Cancerman had issues about you."

Alex snorted. "Get over it, Mulder. There's no way. He tried to have me killed so many times it isn't funny."

Mulder threw him a look. "So did I."

"That was different," declared Alex, getting upset now. "You were completely different; it was personal. That bastard did not have a thing for me. He didn't!" Alex shuddered.

Mulder decided to drop it; now even more sure than before. "Sure. So, who were you in love with, Alex?" Then he realized ... that Kiss... "It was me, wasn't it? Back when we were partners? Even then. From the very beginning." He gave Alex a long, searching look. "Alex? How long was it, really? Exactly how long have you been in love with me?"

But Alex didn't look up now. "Look, I hated you for a long time, almost as much as you hated me. With good reason, you have to admit."

"Yeah? I had more reason than you did, I think. But let's not go over that again. So, you do mercenary killing but not sexual exploitation and manipulation?"

Alex went cold. "Yeah, that's right. Gotta draw the line somewhere, you know?"

"Not really." Mulder shook his head in disbelief. "I don't get that. I don't. How could you- I don't understand how you could think that killing other people instead of seducing me was a viable, rational alternative. What about Walter? You blackmailed him; you killed him, then brought him back, just to prove a fucking point."

Alex sighed. He could feel the situation unraveling from the inside out. "Mulder, I already apologized to you and to him. Why are you dragging me through this again? I'm sorry for hurting him, I am. You know I am. Damn it-" Alex stopped. "Look, he's... he was tough. I had to find a way to demonstrate - I - Mulder, I had to convince him I wasn't bluffing. He's tough. You know he is. I didn't have any other choice." Alex turned away, feeling very hurt because he really did like Walter; but the whole thing had been so difficult... He truly hadn't felt he had any other option at the time. Why was Mulder doing this? They had been getting on so well. It all just proved that they couldn't deal with the past. They couldn't bring it up without Mulder flipping out over it.

Mulder persisted though. "Did you enjoy it? You know, having that power over him, controlling him. Did you?

Alex went still. He looked away. Finally, he quietly replied, "Yes... I-" He hesitated. "Yes." But Mulder didn't see the tears that welled up in Alex's eyes at this. The feeling of power it had given Alex, and the fact that he had felt turned on, by controlling Walter in that way - he really, truly felt bad about the whole ugly scenario. And right now the pain was still too fresh because he couldn't believe that Walter could actually forgive him for it, could actually love him. He wondered if Walter even realized that he had gotten off on it... If Mulder were to tell Walter this... Shit. It might break the fragile truce, the new beginning that they'd begun to forge here. And he'd be asked to leave.

Alex's insecurities boiled to the surface once more. All the dream-like aspects of the morning disappeared and he was left with a castle of clouds that was swiftly dissipating with each passing moment they sat at the table. He sat, unmoving, looking at but not really seeing the table between them.

In an unprecedented and rare moment of compassion, Mulder suddenly realized he'd managed to lose it again, far enough to push Alex all the way back into the same state he'd been in when he arrived. And he groaned. He leaned forward with his head in his hands. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Alex. Look, I didn't mean for it to turn out like this. I'm sorry, okay?"

"Sure." Alex was quiet. "Sure, Mulder."

Mulder could tell he wasn't convinced. "I didn't mean to say that, about you and Walter. I'm sorry, Alex. Will you forgive me for that one?" Mulder was getting worried now, for Alex wasn't looking him in the eye. He sucked in a breath and got up, moving slowly around to Alex's side of the table. Sinking down on one knee to Alex's right, he put one hand on his leg and held Alex's hand with the other. "Please, Alex. Forgive me?" Mulder had a mournful, sincere expression of genuine remorse.

It was hard to ignore Mulder in his kicked-puppy mode. Alex bit his lip and closed his eyes, breathing hard. "Why don't you believe me, when I say that I'm sorry? For all of it; for all the things that I've done? Why?"

Alex he looked down at Mulder, his eyes overly bright and with such a look of sorrow that Mulder had to suppress a gasp. Mulder pressed forward, throwing his arms around him, kneeling there, his face against Alex's chest. "I do. I do believe you, Alex," he said, his voice muffled. "I'm sorry I hurt you again. I'm sorry."

Alex found himself running his hand through Mulder's hair. He swallowed, feeling awkward. "Okay. All right."

Walter cleared his throat and they both jerked, looking over at him. Standing in the kitchen doorway with his arms folded, Walter commented, "Another fight? Am I witnessing another kiss and make-up scene, here?"

Mulder guiltily climbed to his feet and Alex sighed, looking back down at the table in front of them. "A slight misunderstanding. We're getting our communication down, that's all," Mulder said.

"Uh-huh. Right." Walter came in and peered down at the stacked plate on the counter beside the stove. "Are these what I think they are?" he asked, turning with a curious tone.

Alex quickly brushed at his eyes, standing up and going to the stove. He attempted to adopt a careless smile. "Latkes. I was wondering if you'd recognize them."

Walter peered into his face, considering him. And pulled him into a hug. "Hey, good morning to you, too. You alright? Is Fox being mean to you again?" He sounded almost joking about it but Alex took a breath and tensed in his arms.

Mulder came up to both of them and said, in a subdued voice, "I went a little too far. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Alex, okay?"

Walter thought for a moment. And then held Alex back a bit, looking into his face. "If it would make things better, I could give Fox a whipping here at the table. Yeah, we could have roasted buns for breakfast, along with this Russian cuisine, what do you say?"

Alex snickered, tension draining out of him. "That's not necessary. I believe he really means it." He flicked a glance up at Mulder who was trying to keep back a grin.

"I'll be good. I will," Mulder declared. "I'll make more coffee." Mulder sauntered over to the cafetier as if there was nothing more important in the world for him to be doing at that moment.

This did not escape Walter's notice; he realized Mulder was feeling guilty. "You may have just saved your ass," Walter said, with a lift of his brows. "Coffee is a good start, anyway." He sat down at the table. "What the hell am I going to do with the two of you?" he complained. "I can't leave you alone in the same room together."

Mulder smirked and waggled his eyebrows at him. "That's the idea, I think. Maybe we're better off as a triad."

Alex gave Mulder a funny look. "You mean triangle."

Mulder retorted with a slight smile, "Semantics? Now?"

"Well, it doesn't make sense to compare us to an organized Chinese crime family, that's all."

Walter was craning his head though, looking out the window. "It looks like a good day for fishing. I'm going to go out and cut a hole, after breakfast. Care to join me, Alex?"

"Sure." Alex had slipped gratefully back into a nonchalant, easy and natural posture, happy for Walter's presence. He had a sinking feeling Walter was right. He and Mulder still couldn't be trusted to get along -Correction, Mulder still couldn't be trusted to behave like an adult with him. He snorted to himself and turned to take Walter's plate to the stove and give him a helping of latkes. As he passed Mulder, Alex felt the impulse yet again to kiss him. There was something so delightfully nice about the thought of just being able to show affection with such ease. After all, both of them had done it to him, this very morning. But he still felt unsure about doing so. He wanted to so very badly that he was afraid it might be taken out of context. He realized too that the act meant a lot more to him than the casual way in which they did it. So he resisted the impulse.

Walter watched Alex move, the way he was carrying himself, the way he looked at Mulder, everything. "Fox, sit down. You too, Alex."

Mulder sat back down, surprised. Alex handed Walter his plate and then stood behind his chair with a sigh, before pulling it out and sitting down with them.

"Now, I know there's still a lot of ground to cover," Walter began, grabbing the ketchup while Alex watched in horror. "Hey, I like them this way, give me a break. Okay?" He poured a dash of ketchup on his plate beside them while Alex winced. "Fox, do you remember the day, all those years ago, when you attacked me for no reason in the hall, in the Hoover? You were on psychedelics at the time. Remember?"

Mulder nodded with a frown, wondering what Walter was getting at. Alex sat mutely, waiting for Walter to get to the point.

"You tend to lash out at the object of your affection, when you have suppressed feelings for them. And when you do, it's often in a violent form. Do you agree?"

Mulder licked his lips. "If you're implying that I-"

"Imply, hell. I'm saying you express your feelings with violence when you don't know how else to express them." Walter took a bite of the latke on his fork and his eyes widened; he nodded at Alex with approval. "Good. Very good. I don't suppose we could bribe you to repeat this sometime?"

Alex shrugged. "Sure. If I'm still around."

Walter threw him a look. He put his fork down and sighed, deeply. "For God's sake, I thought we'd gotten past this. You're not going anywhere. And if you suggest that either Fox or I are thinking otherwise, you're doing us a disservice. We want you here. I thought that last night would have proven that to you, once and for all."

Walter looked over at Mulder; his lover was sulking again. "Boys, if you two don't find a way to get along here, we're going to have a tough time of it. I have half a mind to mark out a dueling circle and just throw you in the middle, let you work it out."

"Or you could just punish us," Alex said, lightly, the sarcasm apparent in his tone. "Don't you have some kind of implement that would do the job?"

Mulder shot a horrified look at Walter before hissing at Alex, "Stop it! What do you think you're doing?"

But Walter was laughing. He picked his fork up again and continued eating. "Fox, if you don't learn to control yourself, I may have to punish you after all. His suggestion's actually not that far off base."

Mulder folded his arms in front of him and glowered.

"Now. Do you or do you not agree that you have a control problem? When you have strong feelings for someone that you don't feel safe in expressing, you bottle them up and then let the frustration and rage take you over instead. Yes?" Walter held his gaze, hoping to appeal to the friend he had spent years with, together, in this very house.

Mulder looked down and away. "Alright. Yes - yes! Okay? Are you satisfied? I do. I know I do." He rubbed his face and exhaled loudly. He turned to Alex. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to take it out on you."

Alex looked confused. "But you didn't -"

Walter interrupted him. "He was getting damn close to it."

Alex stared at him. "You weren't even here."

"I don't have to be. I know him well enough to know that he was starting to reach that edge again. He hurt you, didn't he?" Walter's voice was calm, not accusatory but soothing. "Taking potshots at you over the past isn't acceptable. It provokes you to the point of making a comeback in self-defense and then he loses it, turning it into a physical fight. He's going to have to find a way to communicate with you that doesn't involve losing his temper." Walter was watching Mulder throughout this, gauging his reaction.

And to his credit, Mulder nodded. "I know."

"I really don't want to have to be a moderator between you two but if I have to I will, to preserve the peace and sanity in this house," Walter said, finishing off the last of his food and helping himself to the orange juice. Turning to Alex, he asked, "Is there anyway I could beg for a cup of coffee, here? I think I really need one right now."

"It's not good for your stomach," Mulder murmured, automatically.

"Damn my stomach," Walter said, with a slight grin. "If I can digest the friction between you two, I can handle anything. Better watch it, Fox; you may end up driving me back to my Scotch."

Alex opened his mouth and then wisely held his tongue; it wouldn't do to mention that he'd seen Walter with a glass in hand a few nights before. Instead, he quietly went to the coffee maker and poured a fresh hot cup of coffee. Bringing it back to the table, he placed it in front of Walter and then sat back down. "I know I've done things that are hard to forget," Alex stated. "Being here with you two... It's kind of like a dream to me, still. I never thought it could happen."

Walter smiled. "That's true for all of us, really. But seriously, Alex, you are welcome here and I wish you'd stop acting like we're about to cast you out on your ear. It's not going to happen. And if you run for it, I promise I'm going to hunt you down and give you the biggest spanking of your life. Hear me?" He said it gruffly but his eyes were twinkling.

Mulder snorted, obviously feeling left out.

Alex regarded Mulder, and then turned to Walter feeling a little more secure in the promise behind that playful threat. "Yeah. I hear you."

"Good. Now, can I have some toast? Jesus, it's like pulling teeth to get anything to eat around here!"

Laughing, Mulder rose to get bread.

But there was no hiding or ignoring the fact that the rest of the breakfast in the kitchen was strained. Afterwards, Alex excused himself and went upstairs. Walter cornered Mulder in the pantry where he was putting away foil-wrapped leftover latkes in the freezer. There were quite a few.

Walter seized him and pulled him into a bear hug. "Fox, Fox. Can't we let him in here, into our life? I thought you were okay with this, with him being here. At least, that's what I was led to believe last night, when you instigated that scene in our bed."

"Your bed," corrected Mulder. "Walt, I can't help it. I'm sorry. I admit I have conflicted feelings where he's concerned. I want him; I always did. But I also can't deny that he's done things I can't forgive, much as I might try. I'm trying. I really am. But I can't just gloss over it all and pretend it never happened. You'll... you'll have to give me some time, that's all." Mulder leaned his face into Walter's neck, breathing a sigh.

Holding him closely, Walter said, "I won't give you up for him, Fox. I can't make that choice. If it comes to that, I won't do anything to risk losing you. I hope you know that. But I don't want to have it reach that point. I think we can make it through this; I have confidence that you can learn how to deal with it. And I know we can help him. We've already made so much progress already. Having invested this much into it, surely we can keep going?"

"You have a soft spot for him, Walt. That's all." Mulder's voice was muffled.

Walt stroked his back, lightly, lovingly. "And so do you."

There was a pause. And finally, Mulder agreed, "Yeah. I do. You're right; it would be a shame to get rid of him now. Let's keep him."

Walter chuckled. "Then the next time you get out of line, I'm going to punish you. And I think you should know what form that will take, too."

Mulder raised his head and looked at Walter, wondering. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to punish him," Walter said, dryly. "In your place."

Mulder stared at him, a feeling of dread creeping over him. "That- that's not fair."

Walter raised his brows and grinned at him. "It isn't? I think it is. Imagine, the next time you start to lose it, you can remind yourself that he is going to receive the punishment in lieu of your ass. That oughtta help you hold back, unless you want him to be punished - in which case you will have ample opportunity to decide if you really do. Because you're going to watch, too."

Mulder stepped backwards in horror. "You can't do that! That's-"

Walter shook his head. "Damn, I'm good. I can't believe I didn't think of it until now. It's up to you, Fox. Besides, I think it's more than fair, considering I've got to go upstairs and patch that boy up again. I really am getting tired of having to do this every single goddamned day." He leaned over and kissed Mulder on the mouth, possessing him roughly, leaving Mulder standing there flushed and breathless a few moments later.

Grumbling, Mulder turned away. As Walter left the room, Mulder remained there and closed his eyes. It wasn't fair at all. Walter was truly unpredictable. He could sympathize with Walt's position; it had to be trying his patience to keep having the two of them ending up in some kind of breakdown or fight, but to place them in the horrible position of knowing that Alex would be punished instead of him... Mulder couldn't deny that it appealed to him, to have Alex punished instead of himself, but the very fact that the other two would be aware of it... Unacceptable! Also, for him to do anything to get Alex into trouble - the inherent dishonesty of it was unacceptable to him personally. Walter was right. He couldn't allow it to happen. It would be too uncomfortable and regardless of what Alex had done or was guilty for in the past, it didn't warrant Mulder framing him now, in this current situation of theirs. Damn it! Mulder sighed. Walter had hit on the perfect solution and knew it too. Mulder glumly realized that this was the opportunity they both needed to finally help Mulder get over his problem with controlling himself and his temper. Mulder finally turned and left the pantry, intending to work in the living room at his computer and filled with renewed intent to avoid unpleasant confrontations with Alex in the future as well.

Upstairs, Alex found himself sitting listlessly on his bed, staring at the floor and wondering if he shouldn't just pack up and go. He didn't want to leave but he also did not want to have that final, dreaded scene where he was asked to leave. Despite all the reassurances Walter had given him, it was obvious that Mulder was not handling his presence here at all well.

Alex sank backwards onto the bed and regarded the ceiling with unseeing eyes. If he examined it more deeply, he knew it was actually the guilt he felt over the whole blackmail issue with Walter that was the root of his anxiety. He really didn't want Walter to know how close to the truth Mulder had been, when he'd said that Alex had gotten off on having that control over Walter.

When the expected knock on the door came, Alex just grunted. At the wordless welcome, Walter opened the door and came in, shutting it behind him and standing with his head cocked to one side. "Are you sulking or are you thinking of running again?"

Alex couldn't help a slight grin. But it faded quickly. "Both, I guess."

Walter lifted a brow at him. "That's getting a little old, don't you think?"

Alex didn't respond. He returned to staring at the ceiling.

Walter came to stand beside the bed and then turned to sit down and lay back beside him, also staring up at the ceiling, next to him. "He's difficult to live with, sometimes. Challenging, but rewarding. And I've just had a little talk with him. From now on, if he loses his temper with you, I've decided that you will be punished instead of him. He isn't happy about it but I think it may just be the deciding factor that helps him to realize he really doesn't want anything like that to happen."

Unable to believe his ears, Alex turned his head and stared at Walter. "You're going to punish me, instead?"

Walter sighed. "With your permission, of course. Will you go along with it? It might be the only thing that will strike the lesson home."

Alex found himself laughing. "You're... a twisted, deviant, evil minded bastard, Walter Skinner. If that doesn't get through to him, I don't know what will."

"I'm in good company," Walter replied, wryly. "I often feel like the two of you could run circles around me. I'm living in a damned soap opera. And I'm getting really sick and tired of your threatening to run away if we don't treat you right. I've told you over and over that I don't want you to go. What do I have to do to convince you? Perhaps it's selfish of me, but I do want you here. And no matter what tantrums or bitching Fox pulls I know he does, too."

Alex closed his eyes. And decided to throw caution to the winds. "Maybe it would be for the best, in the long run. I don't want to come between you -"

"That's not the impression I got last night," Walter interrupted, sardonically.

Alex stopped, turning to look at him with an open gaze, not bothering to hide his anxiety. "When you were infected with the nanocytes, I think you should know that I - I did enjoy having that power over you-"

"I know," Walter said.

Alex regarded him. "You do?"

"Of course. It was obvious. You had that smirk on your face every time we met. It was kind of hard to miss, Alex." Walter turned and kissed him on the nose. "I forgive you though. I already told you that. Why are you making that into a reason to leave again?"

"Fox said -"

Walter scowled angrily. "Fox said? Fox said. I am getting sick and tired of hearing that. How many times do we have to go over this?! It doesn't matter what Fox says. You should know that by now. You know he's conflicted over you, he said so in front of you not half an hour ago!"

Alex chewed his lower lip. "So you're over it? You don't hold it against me?"

Walter growled and rolled on top of him, catching him by surprise and holding him down. Looking intently down into his eyes, Walter said, "I forgive you, rat. Got it? You're welcome here, and I want you to stay. Do you understand?"

Alex caught his breath at the possessive tone and the look in his eyes.

"I said, do you understand?" Walter repeated, giving him a little shake, more forcefully.

"I - Yeah. I underst-" Alex abruptly found himself cut off as Walter's mouth descended to his, effectively silencing further speech and thought.

By the time Walter lifted his head to survey the damage, Alex was panting slightly. "Is that my punishment?" he managed.

Walter grinned. "A little love goes a long way with you."

"Be careful, I could get used to this," Alex grinned.

"Fuck; the two of you. You and Fox. You're going to be the death of me, aren't you?" muttered Walter, before kissing him again.

"Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?" Mulder asked, a bit tritely from behind them.

Rolling away to lie on the bed and then sit up, Walter said, "Fox. Come here and give me a hand to convince our guest that he doesn't need to leave. He seems to need it at least once a day. Convincing, that is."

Mulder turned his gaze on Alex who didn't meet his eyes.

Alex felt torn; on one hand he really loved the attention and the feeling of being with Walter, on the other he hated to think he was indeed coming between Mulder and his lover. This thing with Mulder; it was a physical thing. They both knew it.

Mulder came to stand by the edge of the bed, looking down at Alex, thoughtfully. "You're right. He needs to be reminded frequently, I guess." Mulder dropped down to sit beside Alex on his left, leaving him sandwiched between the two of them.

"Uh, guys? I don't think - we really don't need to-" Alex tried to say, and found himself in the alarming but interesting position of being pulled up further onto the bed and having his hand held firmly down by Walter, pinned above his head, while Mulder climbed on top of him and kissed him senseless. Mulder was running his hands under Alex's shirt and when one questing hand found Alex's left nipple, Alex jumped under him.

"He's still not convinced," Walter said. "Are you convinced now, Alex?"

Mulder lifted his head, looking down at him. Alex's breath was caught in his throat. Mulder shook his head. "Nope. He still isn't. Maybe we're not doing this right."

Walter sighed. "Okay. There's nothing for it but we're going to have to go all the way. Strip him."

Alex found his voice quickly now. "No! You don't have to. I mean, it isn't necessary. I'm convinced. Really, I am!"

But with Mulder sitting on him and Walter holding both his hand and his prosthetic in place, leaning down with one arm across his right shoulder, effectively pinning him, there really wasn't much he could do as Mulder began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his chest and two very interested nipples begging for attention. And then Mulder grinned, and moved in place on top of him, grinding himself against him. "I'd say a part of him is convinced now."

"Well, I'm not. Take off his jeans," ordered Walter.

Alex's breath was coming very short and fast. Walter looked down at him. "You like this, boy? You like being... taken?"

Alex gulped and closed his eyes. It was too good; it was far too sweet. He licked his lips and said, hoarsely, "You don't have to convince me anymore. I believe you. I do."

Mulder stared in disbelief then looked up at Walter. "I think he's trying to get out of it. He's crazy."

"Take off his jeans, Fox." Walter leaned down to distract Alex by ravaging his mouth, licking first his lower lip and then his upper lip. The sound of Alex's zipper going down and his jeans being pulled off was loud in their ears.

"You have something against sex in the morning?" Walter asked him, against his mouth.

Alex found he was trembling and wondered why. Just last night he'd - and then it occurred to him. He hadn't really believed it was happening, even then. For it to happen in daylight, in the cold broad daylight, rendered it starkly unavoidable and real... "Want you," he gasped, wondering why he couldn't think past the melting sensation of his brain floating away. Mulder was pulling his shorts down now. That didn't help. His shirt was peeled back and his shorts were gone and he felt like an exposed offering about to be devoured. Mulder had pulled off his own t-shirt and was straddling him once more. Alex's cock, now free, bobbed in the air between them and when Mulder reached down a hand to grasp him firmly Alex nearly came, moaning aloud.

Walter and Mulder's eyes met. Walter leaned down further to whisper in Alex's ear. "Do you want Fox to suck you? Do you? Do you want that?"

Alex whimpered, his eyes closed. "Not fair, to use sex like this. You know I can't - I can't refuse that!"

"Well, you have a choice. Either Fox can do it, or I can," Walter replied.

Alex's mind whirled. "Hell, since he's there, just - "

And then he couldn't help bucking upward, thrusting into the hot, wet place as Mulder's mouth descended onto him. A cry was ripped from him as the pleasure raced through him. Mulder was holding him down by his hips, as he proceeded to lick and suck on Alex's cock like it was a candy cane. Walter meanwhile was kissing him once more, leaving him boneless.

He wasn't going to last; Mulder's mouth was too wonderful, too hot, too wet, and Walter was kissing him so deep and hard and -

Alex came with a guttural moan into Walter's mouth, Mulder swallowing his salt-bitter come and licking him clean as he jerked and shook with his climax.

When the final aftershocks had faded, Alex lay there feeling wrecked and completely drained. Finally, his eyes fluttered open and he was rewarded with the sight of Walter and Mulder kissing each other over him, lengthily.

He cleared his throat. "Can I help? Return the favor, I mean?"

"I'd intended for this to be for you, Alex, but damn, you're so hot when you come like that, I'm afraid we're going to have to take care of business," Walter said, leaning back as Fox met his eyes once more, and they shared an unspoken agreement. Undoing his own jeans and pulling them down, Walter lay back while Mulder undid his own.

"Alex?" Mulder asked, little tremors of desire in his voice.

Alex smiled widely, and lifted his hand to help Mulder pull his shorts down, revealing his long, ample cock.

Going down on Walter, taking his thick cock in his mouth until he felt it nudging the back of his throat, Mulder simultaneously sank down into the wet cavern of Alex's mouth.

They were both so close it took very little time before they were both eagerly calling out and shooting very nearly at the same time. It was over too fast and Alex growled slightly with dismay as Mulder pulled his softening cock away from Alex's hungry mouth.

Mulder lay back, beside them on the bed, getting his breath back.

Alex hoisted himself up, leaning on his elbow, to stare at him. "Next time, you aren't getting away so quickly," he promised him. He turned and looked up at Walter, who had collapsed down across the bed, at their heads. "Would you please keep your feet off the pillow," Alex groused. As Walter obediently moved his feet away, Alex grinned at him. "Thanks. I needed that."

"I think we all did," Walter said.

"Yeah, nothing like using sex as an avoidance of communication about sensitive emotional issues," commented Mulder, who abruptly found himself being tickled fiercely by both men. He yelped loudly, and then stared at them as they both fell backwards laughing. Mystified, he asked, "What? What is it?"

Still trying to control his laughter, Walter said, "Fox? Was that a girly squeal?"

"No doubt about it. That was a squeal. Very high-pitched, very girly," Alex commented, laughing.

"Oh, the hell with the both of you," grumbled Mulder, feeling out of sorts.

"So, can I interest either of you with a hole in the ice out back?" Walter asked, still hankering to go outside and fish.

"Yeah, sure - I'm game," Alex said.

Mulder shook his head. "Sorry, guys. I've got some things to do."

Sitting outside on the frozen pond behind the house, Walter and Alex waited with their lines hanging down into the black water through the hole Walter had made. It was so bright outside they both had to wear shades; the glare was considerable. Even with the sunglasses on, the world was still crystal white from the sun reflecting off the snow.

"I think Mulder is wrong," Alex commented finally. "Sex takes the edge off and relieves the tension that starts to build up. If he spent more time fucking and less time fighting, he might not get so wound up."

Walter grimaced. "It was never an issue between us once we became an item. We had a normal, well-adjusted relationship. You represent something of an element of excitement and tension just by being here. But you're right. Next time, I'll just insist that he fuck you."

"I didn't mean it quite like that."

"No, but I do. And don't think I won't make good on my new idea for disciplining him; I fully intend to carry that out if he can't control himself."

"Well, I guess my ass is grass then, isn't it?" Alex commented, dryly. "We both know he isn't going to be able to control himself where my past is concerned."

Walter looked over at him. "You can handle it, can't you? Aren't you willing to do that, for him?"

Alex shrugged. "If you think it'll work, I'm willing to play along."

"I'm not playing," Walter pointed out.

"Didn't mean it that way," Alex rejoined, coolly.

Walter regarded him for a moment, not at all reassured by his expression. "What is it?"

"It's just-" Alex broke off, not sure how to broach this subject. "I'm just wondering how I'm supposed to go about joining in here. What do you two do for Christmas?"

Relief surged through Walter. "Is that all? Make up a list and email it to Peterson. He can have what you want sent over on the next chopper drop."

"Email it? What, have you got a satellite link?"

Walter gave a half-smile. "Supposedly. It works fine, just so long as the sky is clear, like today. That's why Fox is inside while the sun shines. Besides, he never really adapted to the outdoor life. He's willing to chop wood and feed the animals, but that's about it. He never really got into helping me walk the dogs."

Alex frowned. "I didn't realize you walked them?"

"They're in the kennel out back. I walk them in the evening. It would be cruel to leave them in there all winter long without any exercise." Walter gave him a funny look. The dogs hadn't been completely silent; he wondered what was up with Alex. He'd have thought that Alex would be more aware of his surroundings.

Alex shook his head. "I've only seen the chickens; I haven't met the dogs yet though."

"Yeah, Malamutes and Siberian Huskies. They're beautiful. I'll introduce you when we're through here. I walk them in the evening, although now that the nights are so long and darkness falls so quickly, I tend to do it in the late morning. You can help me walk them, if you'd like." He realized Alex was distracted and he wondered if perhaps something deeper was gnawing at Alex that could hold his attention to the point of distracting him from his environment so completely. But Alex hadn't been there for very long. Give him time, thought Walter.

As the sun climbed towards noon and then slipped over the zenith, they managed to catch several big trout, enough to make a large supper. Then Walter made good on his promise and showed Alex all the dogs, who went into doggy paroxysms of joy at all the attention, showing their appreciation with many wet swipes of their tongues.

The trout, as prepared by Walter, was excellent and they were all so bloated and full after dinner that both Alex and Mulder protested at having to do the dishes. But they made it through all right, finally repairing to sit contentedly replete in the living room with the fire crackling.

It was so idyllic that Alex found himself drifting. He finally got up to go look over the bookshelves. Mulder was trying not to watch him but ended up doing so out of the corner of his eye. There was something alluring about the way Alex moved; spare liquid movements that betrayed an animal grace, and that were probably unconscious. And while Mulder watched Alex, Walter watched both of them. Alex looked up at one point from his book to see Mulder's eyes on him, only to have Mulder quickly look away, pretending he had only just been glancing up...

Walter shook his head. The 'eye game'. It was building up to a peak, too; no doubt later on there was going to be a crescendo at which point someone was going to break.

Mulder was wondering if Walter would be up for another night like the one before.

Alex tried to concentrate on reading but found he was going over the same page again and again without taking in the words. He turned the page simply because it had become embarrassing that he hadn't yet. He wondered if it would be discourteous to ask or expect to be invited back into Walter's bed with both of them. He had no right to expect it, but wanted nothing more than to be there. Would they let him? Would they?

The tension grew so thick in the room that finally Walter put his book down, chuckling. He kept chuckling until he burst out into a full belly laugh. Taking off his glasses and wiping them, he said as both men regarded him quizzically, "We could cut it with a knife, in here. Why don't we just get it out into the open?"

Mulder smiled. "Well, I'm wondering how tired you are, Walt."

Walter glared at him with mock outrage. "I thought you didn't want me playing up the 'tired old man' act?"

"Hey, if the shoe fits," snickered Mulder.

"Careful there, boy," growled Walter, "I can still put you over my knee."

"I'm so scared," taunted Mulder.

"What about you?" Walter directed at Alex, who sat quietly watching their exchange.

Alex shrugged, nonchalantly, not fooling Walter for an instant. "I'll go along with whatever you two decide."

"Yeah, right," scoffed Mulder. "You're a bottom-hog."

"Like you aren't," commented Walter.

"Walt? Do you feel we've been ignoring you?" Mulder said, a note of contrite apology slipping into his voice.

"Not at all. I'm wondering if I shouldn't throw the two of you outside to keep the dogs warm tonight. If I'm feeling my age, its because I'm having to mediate your daily disputes."

Mulder turned to Alex. "I think we should take him upstairs, don't you?"

Alex smiled. "Absolutely. Yes."

"It's settled then," Mulder declared. "Come on, Walt. Get up. We're going upstairs."

"Are you going to at least let me finish the page I was on?" Walter asked, in a dry tone.

Mulder went to him, grabbed his book and put it down out of reach. "No. You're coming with us." And with a wicked gleam in his eye, Mulder sank to his knees in front of Walter and began nibbling at the button on the front of his shirt, mouthing the next one down and moving slowly until he had reached the button of his jeans. It was already undone. Looking up with a sly grin, Mulder asked, "Have you had enough time to recover, or shall we wait a while longer?"

"From dinner, or from last night?" Walter returned, reminding him that since the introduction of Alex into their home, they were having sex almost twice as frequently as before.

"Don't make me have to take these off you," Mulder said. "Or we're going to have a hard time getting up the stairs."

"It'll be difficult enough as it is," pointed out Walter, who indeed was already quite hard from Mulder's mouth on him through his clothing.

"Alex? If you could precede us, please? And deal with the lights and the fire, and whatnot?" Mulder seemed bent on getting Walter upstairs come hell or high water.

Alex suppressed a chuckle and tended to the fire, turned off the lights and then went upstairs to Walter's bedroom, to turn back the covers and get undressed. He slid gratefully in the dark between the sheets, glad that he was welcome for a second time.

By the time Mulder and Walter made it up the stairs and into the room, they were already in a disheveled and undressed state, tearing off items of clothing that were barely hanging off them.

Walter ended up on his back in the middle of the bed with both Alex and Mulder vying for his cock, both of their mouths on him. Pretty soon it had become a game, which of them could do something that would arouse him further. Every time Walter started getting close though, Mulder would indicate to Alex that they should stop, and they'd back off, leaving Walter groaning and breathless. Finally, he was begging them to finish it. Alex let Mulder go down on him fully then, and inched his way upwards to kiss Walter passionately, their tongues sliding eagerly against each other.

Mulder had slid two slicked fingers into Walter and was sucking him expertly in just the way he liked until he came - shuddering as he thrust into Mulder's mouth and yelling while Alex continued to kiss and lick at his neck, his shoulder and then his throat.

With Alex snuggled up to him on his right and Mulder clasped against his left, Walter said in a satisfied voice, "Thanks. That was great. That was really wonderful."

"We're just getting started. Just tell us what you want, and your wish is our command," Mulder murmured against him.

"God, you'll spoil me," Walter said, grinning. "And it isn't even Christmas yet. I'll tell you what I'd really like but I need both your cooperation on this."

They waited. Until finally Mulder said, impatiently, "Well, come on! What is it?"

"I want both of you here, every night, just like this. Even if we don't do anything. Just... to be here. Think we can manage that?"

Walter waited, wondering if this suggestion was too much for both of them. "Fox? What do you think?"

Mulder swallowed in the dark and said, "It's fine with me." The way he let his voice trail off though with that, it was apparent that it was up to Alex.

Walter turned to Alex and planted a kiss on the nearest part of him - which turned out to be his ear, for Alex was lying with his face tilted upwards. "Alex?" Walter instinctively tightened his hold on him.

But Alex merely returned the pressure, as though returning his hug. "Alright. If that's what you really want."

But he wasn't fooling Walter, who knew he wanted this more than anything. He was tempted to put Alex in the middle again but realized Alex would probably not appreciate having to be the focus of so much attention so soon; he obviously felt self-conscious about it. So -

Walter turned to Mulder and said, "It's your turn then, isn't it?"

"You can't be ready to go again, so soon," Mulder said, not meaning to insult him but clearly surprised.

"No, I'm not, but you can help me get that way. Sit up." Feeling like he was directing a porn film, Walter started giving commands. "Alex, you get behind Fox - and take this; put it on." He handed him the lube. "Then get him ready. Fox, you stay like that, on your knees." Walter got up and faced him, taking him into his arms and kissing him warmly, flicking lightly at his lips before sliding his tongue between them. Mulder's lips; full and ripe, there was something irresistible about kissing them. He never ceased to be amazed at how merely kissing Mulder could turn him on so quickly. He'd just come and yet here he was, hardening even as Mulder's fully aroused member rubbed against his own, their tongues tangling, the taste of Fox filling his mouth, his senses. And then the way Fox's breath caught in his throat and he sensuously rubbed up against Walter, and then moved backwards...

Alex had slid a single, well-coated finger right up inside Mulder's asshole, loving the way it gripped and rippled around him. The tight heat of that channel filled him with reverence and impatient wonder; he wanted to be inside of him as quickly as possible. The way Mulder was moving back against him left no doubt that he wanted more. Alex obliged, sliding a second finger inside of him now, feeling for his prostate. The way Mulder cried out and gasped, twisting back and moving to impale himself harder on Alex's hand made Alex smile in triumph. And he found himself wishing yet again that he had both hands, so he could do justice to this act; so he could touch him in both places at once, both his cock and his ass.

Then Walter was turning, letting go of Mulder to face away from him, moving to the pillows and getting on his stomach. "Alex, bring him over here," Walter called.

Alex obeyed, with his fingers still inside Mulder, Mulder crawling over to where Walter waited for him. Mulder got into position over Walter, between his legs. Alex now reached for more lube, squeezing a generous amount haphazardly onto his hand. Reaching out in the dark, he found Mulder's cock and began greasing him up. Mulder hissed and thrust hard against his hand. Alex had to remember not to close his fist too tightly; he didn't want to give Mulder a hand-job right here and make him lose it too quickly.

Then, helping to guide him forward to Walter's ass, Alex ran his slicked hand all along Walter's crack, getting him ready. Mulder then slid partially into him, the act eliciting a considerable gasp from Walter and an open-mouthed moan from Mulder.

Alex moved to place himself behind Mulder then, and felt for Mulder's ass once more, placing the tip of his own slippery cock against him, he sank in a few inches. Oh God, to be fucking Fox Mulder. And so soon after the night before. Tight, hot heaven and the combined magical sounds of both of them before him as he slid home, penetrating him all the way, balls-deep. The white core of pleasure in his brain was going to explode... Christ. Mulder pushed back against him and as Alex pulled out a few inches only to slide back in, hard, he ended up pushing Mulder forwards into Walter, making Walter call out under both of them.

They began to fall into a natural rhythm, Alex and Mulder would pull back and then both would thrust forward again; repeating this was easy and smooth and it became a dance. An eager, hard-working dance where all parties found it difficult to maintain an even poise, yet were able to find a measure of abandonment in the act itself. They lost themselves in the pure sensation of fucking, of being fucked, until it climbed to a point where Walter couldn't hold back anymore, and he came with a wordless shout, his semen spattering on Mulder's chest, on his own, even flecks landing on his chin. This set off Mulder, Walter bearing down hard on his cock and the added penetration of Alex impaling him from behind and over-stimulating his magic spot was too much and he groaned loud and long as he shot hard into Walter's hot depths. Alex felt Mulder release and then finally let go himself, fucking Mulder hard, fast and deep, over and over, letting himself get lost in the sheer joy of being inside him.

Somehow, they managed to arrange themselves in some sort of sleeping position. Alex had the presence of mind afterwards to get warm, wet towels and help them all to clean up. Limbs entangled happily together, in the dark, they left the world outside, blissfully falling into a natural sleep.

And so began the real beginning of the truce, for in the days that followed, under threat of having Alex punished in his place, Mulder, to his credit, refrained from losing control and remembered to not get snippy. It helped having all three in the same bed; it afforded not only a measure of sexual comfort and security to all three to have the situation resolved this way, but it also enabled all of them to feel as though no one was being left out.

Alex's nightmares seemed to abate; it seemed that being in the company of others helped to stave them off.

The snow was there to stay as well. Yet more snow was dumped on them, and the occasional aurora party was held, with Mulder keeping a watchful eye on the space weather news online so they would have ample warning.

The days slipped by and before long, Christmas was approaching. There was one more chopper drop, as Walter had said there would be. Each of them bore secretive parcels to their own rooms; no one spoke of it but it was tacitly evident what they were.

A week before Christmas, Walter had gone outside and chopped down a suitable tree to erect in the living room. Mulder went out to the sheds and retrieved a set of Christmas decorations. He and Alex sat preparing them when Walter brought the tree in. It was a big tree; the top brushed the ceiling.

Later that afternoon, Alex went for a walk; a pastime he had adopted early on. He had made it a personal endeavor to explore their locale in every direction. So far, he'd managed to familiarize himself with just about every landmark hill and forest turn in their vicinity. He took great delight in the wild, empty beauty of the surrounding wilderness, while relishing every return to the warm home with his two lovers within. It was the best of both worlds, and every day was like a reprieve from the life he had known before. It felt surreal, out of time; like a holiday. He still had a hard time accepting the reality of it all, for even now it felt like a dream to him. He loved going out; he loved coming back even more.

Today though, as he came inside, brushing the snow off his boots and removing his coat, he couldn't help but see the pensive expression that Mulder wore. Alex took off his boots and went to sit down. Mulder was nibbling the last of the sunflower seeds in the bowl. Sitting down next to him, he indicated them. "You've managed to finish all these off in record time, Mulder."

Mulder merely grunted, and reached out to snag another handful. "We've got problems."

A cold shaft of worry suddenly settled in Alex's stomach at those words. "What?"

Mulder nibbled away. "Scully's coming to visit."

"Fucking hell. Is that all?" Alex sank back into the couch, flopping backwards with relief. "Mulder, for God's sake! I thought it was something bad."

"It is. She doesn't have any idea that you're here."

Alex gave him a look, one that Mulder didn't see as he was sitting forward leaning on his knees while he nibbled his way through the seeds. "Mulder, why is that a problem?"

Mulder threw him with a dubious glance, over his shoulder. "She barely coped with the knowledge that Walter and I were together. How do you think she's going to react hearing that not only are you here, but you're sleeping with both of us?"

"I don't know, maybe she'll be jealous?" Alex was flippant. "How long is she going to be here?"

"She and Peterson are both going to land here tomorrow afternoon and stay for a couple of days, then return home in time to be with their families for Christmas."

"I still fail to see the problem."

Mulder turned to face him with a frown. "Alex, Walter and I may have forgiven you for - for the past, but Scully doesn't know anything about this and..."

"And you're uncomfortable with her knowing that you're sleeping with two men now, rather than one," Alex said, knowingly, prudently deciding not to point out to Mulder that if she was married, she was hardly 'Scully' anymore, and that it wasn't Scully who had a problem with Mulder's gay relationships, it was Mulder himself.

"Not just another man, Alex. You."

"So? So what?"

"I just - I don't know. Maybe... it would be a good idea for you to stay in your own room while she's here. She knows Walter and I are together already; she could stay in my room and Peterson could stay down here, in the living room. You know, Peterson has never stayed here before, either."

Feeling stung and yet not really knowing why, after all Mulder did have a point, Alex said stiffly, "Why are you ashamed for other people to know about us? About me?"

"Come on, that's not what I mean. Think about it, Alex! In the interest of discretion, if nothing else."

Alex smiled grimly. "So it's not shameful, it's indiscreet."

Mulder turned to face him squarely. "This really isn't the time to throw a fit. We've got bigger problems. And I would've thought you'd understand my concern. We're not living in some kind of fairytale here, as inconvenient as it might be for you to have to face that right now."

Alex got to his feet and stared down at Mulder, coldly. "Well, can't have Dana thinking we're a bunch of fairies now, can we?"

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Mulder gritted out, matching his glare.

"I'm not ashamed of loving you," Alex stated.

"That's not what this is about. If you stopped thinking about yourself here, you'd understand that."

"I think it is. I think it is about me. Maybe if I wasn't here for the duration of their visit, you wouldn't be so inconvenienced by the shame of having to explain why two men might love you so much, or find you so desirable that they enjoy sleeping with you every night." And he walked away, going upstairs to his room and shutting the door. Thinking it over, he locked it a few moments later.

He wasn't even hurt; he was too angry to feel hurt. It was a novel feeling. He hadn't felt rage like this in a long time. He was furious, and it burned through his whole body like a cold flame. If he were less controlled, he might have thrown things or destroyed furniture. He was certainly hard-pressed not to smash the window. The satisfying sound of breaking glass at the moment would be partially soothing, he was sure.

Seething, he forced himself to sit down in the chair beside the bed and think. Calmly. Mulder was partly right. It was a sham; their little situation here was nothing more than a decision all three had made to live amicably together and share chores while having sex in the evenings and sleeping in the same bed for mutual warmth and comfort. It was nothing more than that, and actually Alex had long held the deeply hidden suspicion that it would take nothing more than this - an incursion from the outside world-to remind them of the truth of their situation. A distant part of his conscience kept saying that he should talk to Walter before doing anything else, but it didn't stop the rage at Mulder's insufferable attitude and paranoia, and it certainly didn't answer the problem of what to do when Dana and Peterson arrived. And it certainly didn't change the fact that he was nothing more than a tolerated presence here - at least mostly on Mulder's part - and that he was being used for sex. They were mutually using each other. What the hell - How had that happened, anyway? Since when had he managed to convince himself that it was anything else? He was a romantic idiot; he should have known that he was only allowing himself to be talked into this in the first place.

Bitterly, he knew the only solution was to pack up his things and leave. It would certainly save recriminations, emotional scenes and more painful discussions later on. He really didn't relish yet another long scene with Walter, one in which he ended up being talked into the one thing he wanted -against all better judgment. It was his one weakness: the promise of home, warmth, friendship and love. It was all too good to be true, of course. Home is what we make it, he thought. Had he merely been kidding himself in believing that Mulder might really accept him here? He began wondering if he had enough fuel in the car and thinking of what he would need to survive the cold journey.

Walter came in from outside, from the storeroom where he'd gone to retrieve extra food to stock up for the visit. When he toed off his boots and shuffled into the kitchen to lay down his burdens, he took off his fogged-up glasses to clean them. Putting the food away in the fridge and the cans on the shelves in the pantry, he went back into the living room. Mulder was sitting on the couch, eating his way grimly through the sunflower seeds, almost compulsively. He'd nearly finished the bowl.

"Fox? Are you alright?" Walter sat down in his big chair, putting his feet up on the little stool in front of it.

Mulder shrugged, noncommittally.

Walter regarded him suspiciously. And sighed. "Look, they won't be here for very long. We owe them at least a couple days. Peterson's been more than helpful and Dana-"

"It's not that. What about Alex?"

"What about him?" Walter was nonplussed.

"Scully doesn't know he's here."

Walter stared at him, wondering what was addling his brain this time. "Peterson will tell her. You think he won't? He's bound to."

Mulder stared at him. "Oh, no."

"What? Fox, come on. What is it? This is hardly a calamitous event."

"I didn't even think about - Walt, how are we going to explain what he's doing here?"

"What's to explain?" Walter countered, wondering why this was such an issue in the first place. "He came here for sanctuary; we gave it to him. Hey, to err is human and to forgive, divine. We did the right thing: he was nearing the end of his road. That's all there is to it. Everything else is self-explanatory."

"Is it? Even the part about him sharing the big bed upstairs in your room? With both of us?"

The glimmerings of what was going on began to grow clear now. "Is that what's bothering you? She doesn't have to know about that. It doesn't concern her. And even if she suspects it, as long as we play it cool, it doesn't really matter does it?"

Mulder shot him a disparaging look. "Come on, Walt. We're talking about Dana, here. You can't hide anything from her."

"Hm, you have a point, there. But I fail to see what there is to panic about. It's really none of her business." He took in Mulder's scowl and defensive posture. More gently, he said, "You're worried about what she'll think of you, aren't you? What she'll say." He shook his head. "Fox, I have to ask. Why are you ashamed about it?"

Mulder closed his eyes. "I don't know. Maybe - maybe I spent so long denying the truth of it to myself that I'm still not comfortable sharing it with the rest of the world, you know?"

Walter considered this. And then nodded, slowly. "You're right. We can make other arrangements, for the two nights they'll be here, okay? Has Alex come back yet? We should talk this over with him; let him know that we'll have to play it cool for a couple of days."

"He's upstairs, I think."

Mulder's flat reply set off a warning bell in Walter, who threw him a sharp look. "Did you speak to him when he came in?"

Mulder didn't look at him. "Yeah. I told him we had a problem; that Scully and Peterson were coming. He doesn't seem to agree that discretion is appropriate, let alone required, under the circumstances."

Walter leaned forward with a heavy sigh, putting his face in his hands for a few moments, before looking up tiredly at Mulder. "What the hell did you say to him? Please tell me I'm not going to have another full-blown crisis with you two again?"

Mulder stiffly glared at him, defensively. "I tried to tell him exactly what you said: that he should stay in his room while they're here, and I would give my room to Scully, and we should cool it... so that they wouldn't suspect anything. He got upset that I was suggesting I was ashamed to be involved with him. He seems to think that the whole thing's focused on him; that he's the central problem and that everything revolves around him. He thinks that we're throwing him out of the bed and that I'm ashamed to have him here. Then he stomped upstairs."

Walter shot him a look. "Can you tell me, honestly, that nothing you said to him might have hurt his feelings or made him feel justified in believing that what he was saying was true?"

Mulder paused, thinking back over what they'd said. "Yeah. He seemed to take everything I said out of context. When I said it wasn't about him, he took it as though I was implying he was being self-centered, I think. And then said everything was about him. And when I said we weren't living in a fairytale, he said it wouldn't do for Dana to think we were a bunch of fairies."

"And you said all this without even a hint of sarcasm, huh?" Walter said, his own tone laced with it. "Fox, you know how sensitive he is about our relationship. I think you really could have been more tactful, or else he wouldn't have gone upstairs in the first place."

"It's not my fault!" Mulder exclaimed, raising his voice. "Why do you always take his side?! Why do you always defend him? I thought he was supposed to be the Consortium villain, not me. Maybe I'm wrong, but wasn't he our enemy for so many years? I'm sorry, Walt, but I can't just explain to Dana that we took him in and decided to fuck him because he was pretty. Somehow I don't think that will cut it."

"Considering how you're talking to me right now, I can see why Alex went upstairs. I'm nearly there, myself. Fox, this doesn't have to be a problem unless you make it one. I'm not taking his side; I just don't see the necessity of treating him like an enemy when he's given us every indication that he wants to cooperate and actually has real feelings for both of us. I think you're conveniently forgetting that this isn't about sex at all; or having him in our bed upstairs. He loves you."

But Mulder didn't want to be pacified or talked down. "That doesn't change what he is! Just because he says he loves us doesn't make what he did disappear, it doesn't change the fact that he -" Mulder ran dry, realizing what he was about to say.

And Walter relentlessly finished it for him. "Shot your father. Killed people... He hurt you and those close to you. You can't forgive him for that." Walter got up and sat down close to Mulder, pulling him into his arms. Holding him tightly, he noticed absently that Mulder had begun to shake slightly. "Fox, my Fox. Listen, people change. People can change. I believe that he is truly sorry, that he regrets what happened. I think he felt his back was against the wall and he had no other options. If he had tried to get out before he betrayed you, they would have killed him. I honestly think he believes that. No amount of self-justification on his part changes what he did and no one is more aware of that than he is. I know he did what he could on his own side, from where he stood in it all, throughout it all. Some of the things he did were truly horrible, but in some twisted, strange way, I believe he was acting from the best part of himself, thinking of the good of the whole." Mulder had only tensed in his grasp though.

Walter continued, "It's only his capacity for love that has saved him, do you know that? If he didn't love us, there wouldn't be any hope for him. But he does, and so he is worth the effort. No one is asking you to forget what he's done, but I'm asking you now, do you care? Do you care that he loves you?" When Mulder didn't reply, Walter added, "If you don't, we can let him go. If you really can't handle him living here, he can leave with Dana and Peterson when they go, alright?"

Miserably, Mulder said, into Walter's chest, "I don't know. I don't know!"

Wearily, Walter asked, "Do you believe that he loves you?"

Quietly, Mulder said, "Yeah. Yeah, I do. But that doesn't make it all better. It doesn't undo what's been done."

"Fox, have you bothered to talk to him at all, about this? Or have you been keeping it all locked up inside again?"

Mulder gave a short bark of laughter. It was unhinged, and tinged with self-mockery and anger. "Been keeping it locked up."

Walter rubbed his back. "I want you to think about this very carefully. Alright? We have to sort this out before tomorrow, before they arrive. I want you to decide once and for all, whether or not you want Alex here. Because if you can't stand having him around, there's no way we can make this work. You're ashamed to accept his love. You don't believe he deserves your love. Right?"

Mulder grimaced and held onto to Walter. "I'm sorry," he said miserably. "I can't just ignore it. I can't just gloss it over."

"So talk it over instead. I'm not going to do it. Only you can do it. Go upstairs and talk to him. Either way, sort it out. I don't care at this point what you do or say. If he leaves, then he leaves. Just be sure it's what you want, okay?" Walter held him back a bit and looked him in the eye.

Mulder sat up and sighed. "Alright." He got to his feet.

When he'd slowly made it to the second stair, Walter said, "Once and for all, Fox. Please? No more scenes."

Mulder just nodded. He trudged up the stairs, thinking hard about nothing, trying to gather his thoughts but unable to do so.

Alex was packing, furiously, methodically. He had opened the door some time ago and had listened to the entire exchange. He'd be damned if he was going to remain to be their toy, a lovesick fool, at the mercy of Mulder's emotional state and his violent ups and downs. He'd been kidding himself, desperate to believe that this whole thing was real. It was a fucking joke. Walter would never force Mulder, couldn't force Mulder, to love him.

And Walter certainly wasn't going to give Mulder up for Alex. And Mulder couldn't love him... So what the hell was he still here for? It had been a nice dream. He'd remember every day he'd spent here with them since he had arrived, forever. At this point though, all he wanted was to get out and leave this emotional minefield behind.

Dangerous, stupid and eminently impractical, to search for peace and retirement with the two men in the world who most challenged his emotions, who remained his weakest, most vulnerable points... He'd been unable to look a gift horse in the mouth, to discover both of them here in this beautiful retreat. But it had turned out to be a Trojan Horse, loaded with pain and unsubtle hints that he was considered less than human, less than worthy of forgiveness or compassion by a certain Fox Mulder. The man who who had haunted his dreams and hopes and fears for longer than he could remember -

The knock on his door, though expected, brought him down out of his thoughts with a swift jolt, the sound sharply cutting through whatever residual self-pity he'd been indulging in while packing. The cold anger still burned throughout him, giving him the impetus he needed to ignore the knocking.

"Alex? Can I come in?" Mulder's monotone voice simply didn't affect him like it usually did, perhaps because Alex was so furious at being treated like an inhuman creature that he had finally had enough. Alex snorted to himself, inaudibly, and ignored him, redoubling his efforts at packing. It didn't really take all that long - he owned very little.

"Alex?"

He would wait until they were both unawares, either upstairs or out, and then he would collect what he needed from downstairs and leave.

"Alex, I know you're in there. Please, we need to talk."

Alex regarded the window. And his eyes narrowed. No, it was far too cold. Maybe he could go ahead and - no, he'd never make it. He'd freeze to death. No. He was going to have to play along with this and wait until early morning. He sighed and sat down on the bed. Right. Whatever happened, he had to remember not to believe it.

"Alex? Come on, open the door. I promise, no fighting. I just want to talk."

He found himself effortlessly slipping into the schooled indifference to Mulder that he'd learned from years of painful encounters. And discovered that it really fit well; like an old, well-worn pair of jeans. It wasn't that hard at all. After all, what was the point of continuously imagining that Mulder had any real feelings for him beyond hatred and disgust? Mulder never had gotten over his physical desires. The constant seesaw between hatred and desire where Alex himself was concerned was a reminder that Mulder had deep-seated issues about his own sexuality. Alex was no longer willing to be his whipping boy; he was tired of having to be the recipient of Mulder's projections.

Mulder's voice started to gain a little note of desperation. "Come on, Alex. Please. Let me in. Please?"

Alex went to the door and unlocked it, pulling it open abruptly to reveal Mulder standing there with a curiously shamefaced and yet simultaneously obstinate expression. Alex regarded him coolly.

"Can I come in? Just to talk, I promise."

Alex stood back and let Mulder enter, shutting the door behind him and going back to his suitcase, putting it on the floor on the other side of the bed.

Mulder didn't miss this and winced, followed by an expression of tired regret. "I'm sorry. I freaked out and struck out at you. I'm really sorry, Alex."

"No, you aren't. You didn't take it out on me. I took everything you said out of context," stated Alex with very little inflection at all.

Mulder pressed his lips together, thinking. "I was hard on you; I panicked and I was taking it out on you."

"You don't love me; you can't love the man who killed your father and countless others - you still think of me as your enemy. So I'm here for the sex. Regardless of how good it is, I'm not willing to be your whore, your sex toy. It's no wonder you panicked; you suddenly came face to face with the truth - which is often unpleasant. You can't stand the fact that you're sleeping - and sharing Walter - with a man you hate, someone who fills you with shame and revulsion." Alex stated all of this calmly.

Which scared Mulder; it was so like the Alex Krycek he had known so recently, not at all like the sweet, vulnerable and quiet lover they'd been living with all these weeks. He began to wonder if maybe Alex had been playing them all this time - and then inwardly shook himself. That wasn't possible. No one could fake the way Alex obviously felt for him. For it was true, Alex was in love with him, that much Mulder believed. Which meant he was simply hurting right now. Mulder took a breath. "Look, Alex, I can't help being unable to forgive your past actions. You know that. But I don't consider you our whore. My whore. I don't."

Alex smiled coldly at him. "Doesn't change the fact that you really don't like me very much. I'm still your father's killer, aren't I?"

Mulder was pacing the floor and his face began to crumple with misery. "I don't know what to say to you. I want you, and I can't help wanting you. But I also can't help it that you - that you're the man who-"

"Mulder, it's out of your hands now. It isn't up to you. I'm going. It's my decision, not yours." Alex said this with his still placid, calm manner.

Mulder slowly turned and looked him in the eye. "You're leaving?" he asked, almost unable to really believe it.

"Look, it's clear that you can't handle my presence here. I think this little incident has proven that I've overstayed my welcome."

Slowly, Mulder replied, "And I'm supposed to believe that you really love me, have real feelings for me?"

"At this point, Mulder, I really don't give a fuck what you believe." At Mulder's half-angry, half-stricken reaction to his words, Alex added with a knowing, mirthless smile, "I know I tried. I gave it my best shot. You're a hard man to convince, Fox. But, well, let's just say I've decided that I'm worth more than your opinion of me."

Safe in the security of knowing that Alex was in love with him, Mulder hadn't even considered the possibility that he'd actually leave. And being told quite frankly to his face that this was precisely what was going to happen, Mulder felt the sting of betrayal once more. He swallowed, for it seemed to hurt twice as much as the first time. That original realization that Alex Krycek had betrayed him had made him more angry than hurt... For some reason it was painful this time.

Maybe because part of his conscience was screaming that this time, it had been Mulder himself who had done the hurting, who had caused it to happen? He didn't know what to say. He found himself standing mutely; searching Alex's familiar indifferent expression of 'not caring', wondering what emotion was actually flowing beneath the surface. Something told him that Alex had been pushed too far this time. This caused a flash to go through him, much like a bucket of cold water over his head. He couldn't let him go. He couldn't let it happen.

Alex tilted his head at him. "Are you through?"

Mulder stood still, staring at him, letting the knowledge that this might be the last time he ever saw Alex sink into his mind. And the awful truth shot through him like a painful electrocution. He did love him; he did love this man. He always had. In fighting him, he was fighting himself. He had never wanted to see it, but faced now with the autonomy that Alex possessed, the ability to walk away and leave him once more; he realized this was what he was actually afraid of. Shit, to have to be dragged to the edge of the abyss before one realized what one was doing! The thought of losing Alex now was too much. What could he do? Mulder found himself mentally, wildly, holding up and instantly discarding a number of statements before finally giving up completely and getting down on both knees where he'd been standing.

Kneeling there, with a repentant manner and a hollow voice, Mulder entreated, "Please don't leave me, Alex. I know I deserve it; I know I haven't treated you right. But please, let me make it up to you. Give me one more chance, I beg you."

Alex was taken aback. He hadn't expected this. Mulder sounded so sincere, looked so sincere. He blinked.

Mulder saw the little crack in Alex's expression, the slight uncertainty, and jumped on its heels. "Alex, I swear I'll be different with you. I didn't realize it until now but I've loved you from the beginning, I've just been trying to deny it. To myself. But I won't deny it anymore, not to myself, and not to anyone else. I love you; I do. I love you." And he trailed off, not really knowing what else to say, watching Alex miserably with a lump in his throat and his heart in his mouth. "Please," he whispered.

Alex's eyes glimmered and he found himself brushing away tears despite himself. "You -" His voice stuck in his throat. "You make it so damn hard, every time! Why-" a sob choked him, interrupting him, "why can't you just let me go? Why are you doing this to me?" And he turned away, overcome, facing the wall and the darkening window. Damn it, why was he crying? Why?! And why couldn't he stop? It was kind of frightening. He hated Mulder for making him feel this way. First plunging him into despair and anger, then sending him through the wringer again, appealing to his heart, turning his love for Mulder against him and making him feel like he was the one who had caused the pain.

Mulder got up and went to him. He pulled Alex close to him, sitting down beside him with his arms around him. Holding him close, unable to help his own tears, he said fiercely, hoarsely, "I'm sorry, Alex. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Don't leave me. I love you. Stay with me. I love you."

Dissolving at this, Alex just clung to him, his face pressed against him, soaking his shirt with tears, making little shudders every now and again.

Feeling exactly as though he had been kicking a small animal, Mulder held him tightly, stroking him and whispering over and over, "I love you. Don't go. I love you."

"I can't keep doing this," Alex said into his chest, his heart breaking as he tried to stop the tears from coming but they just kept flowing. Like a damned leaky faucet that he couldn't turn off. He was so tired; so sick and tired of it all. "I don't want to do this anymore."

"You won't have to," promised Mulder, rocking him slightly in his arms. "I promise. I give you my word, Alex. Please don't go. You won't have to do this ever again. I love you."

Alex gave a small laugh through his tears. "Keep saying that and I might start to believe you."

"Yeah?" Mulder said, quietly. "I love you, I love you, I love you. How's that?" He stroked Alex's face. "I love you, Alex."

They sat like that for a long while. Finally, Alex pulled away from him, wiping his face and reaching for the box of tissues on the bedside table. With a slight smile, he offered one to Mulder.

"So I'm forgiven?" Mulder asked lightly, unable to hide the worry in his voice.

Alex nodded. "Of course. You know, Walter's downstairs, worrying about us. We should go down."

"You're right. Okay." Mulder finally found relief coloring his reply.

They gathered themselves up, Alex quickly going to the bathroom to wash his face, before joining Mulder on the landing and following him downstairs.

Walter sat there, reading. He looked up, taking in their war-torn faces. "I take it there's a détente, once more? The heavens are peaceful again?"

"No more storms," answered Mulder. "A clear sky, from here on out."

Walter was regarding Alex.

Alex shrugged. "Hey, who can resist him? He's very persuasive."

Walter sighed. "I'm glad to hear that. I've got an idea. Let's repair to the kitchen. I'll make us some soup." He put down his book and got up, stretching. "We can make plans on how to deal with our guests."

Later that night, they slept peacefully in each other's arms, in the comfort of each other's presence; Walter in the middle with Mulder and Alex on either side. None of them had felt like doing anything but cuddling, almost desperately, since they had discussed that, really, the best thing was for Alex to remain in his own bedroom for the next couple of days over the duration of the visitation.

In the morning, Mulder awoke and yawned, turning his head and seeing Walter beside him. He lifted his head. Alex wasn't there. Alex had been rising earlier and earlier these days; he often made breakfast. He seemed to take great delight in it. Usually they awoke from the smells as they drifted upstairs.

Today the absence of the smell of breakfast was noticeable. Wondering if the driveway was icy still, despite the salt they had put down the previous morning, Mulder dressed in his sweats, hoping he could go for a jog.

The house was quiet and still. In the living room, on the coffee table between their seats, he saw a white, folded piece of paper. Picking it up, he read it.

Dear Walter and Fox,

I know this is hardly fair, to do it like this, but you are both too convincing. You're too hard to talk to, and I know you'll talk me out of it. I think I've overstayed my welcome. You've made yourselves a little paradise here and for a while, I was lucky enough to be able to enjoy it with you. I will never forget it and will always be grateful that you made a space for me in it. You let me share your lives for a time, and I'll always remember it, always.

You were right though, Fox. I don't really deserve to have it. Please don't blame yourselves for my leaving. I realized that it is actually selfish of me to remain. And I wouldn't be able to handle either of you asking me to leave. This is eventually, inevitably, what would end up happening, so I guess what I'm doing is merely doing it for you, before you had to make that decision.

You said that people change, Walter. Maybe you're right. But I can't change myself far enough to make myself worthy of either of you. A leopard can't change its spots. And none of us can change the past. Whatever you may think after I've gone, please know that I didn't leave to make a statement or to get back at you in any way. I simply don't want to have to go through the pain of being told to go. And whatever either of you might say about that, I know that it is the ultimate eventuality if I stay.

I love you both, and I hope that you will be well. Thank you for everything you did for me. It was far, far more than I ever could have hoped for.

Love,

Alex

When Walter had showered and wandered down the stairs in search of coffee and breakfast, he found Mulder sitting dully on the couch, unspeaking. Mulder handed him the letter without a word.

After reading it, Walter was angry; he was more than angry, he was livid. "This is unacceptable."

"It's his decision, Walt." Mulder was quiet and subdued.

Walter continued, as if he hadn't heard him, "Someone will end up tracking him down. He's not safe yet; he hasn't been out of the loop long enough. We'll have to do it first, try to be the first to get to him. And you can bet that if we can find him, others will too."

Mulder heaved a sigh. "Walt, it's my fault he left. Just - let him go. He's right. It was too painful for him."

Walter shot him a look. "It won't be the same without him. You realize that, don't you? Fox, he was always there, always. You've wanted him from the beginning; he's been between us for years. When he arrived, it simply completed it. You've always kept a place inside for him, I know you have. And this just made it clear." Walter was shaking his head. He got up, slowly walking about the room, thinking. "I might be able to get Peterson to talk to Nadia Vervette. She's got contacts in the CIA as well as the NSA. Hell, she's pretty much connected with every-"

"It's - look, it's not up to us," Mulder cut in, sharply. "If he wants to be found, we'll find him. Otherwise, we won't. And right now, I don't think he wants to be found." His voice softened. "At least we have each other. He's on his own."

"Well, he shouldn't have left. It was stupid; a stupid thing to do. Thoughtless. Not only are we going to worry about him now, he's run off in a state of despair and wounded pride, as well as self-pity. There wasn't any need for that. We could've talked it over."

"You keep avoiding it. Why? Are you afraid I can't handle it, Walter? Come on!" Mulder said, loudly. "It's my fault he left. I drove him away."

Walter looked down at him and snorted scornfully. "If you want to sit there and wallow in self-castigation and despair, you go right ahead. But I'm going to find him. I warned him; I did. No matter where he goes, I'm going to track him down. Read that letter again, and tell me I'm wrong: he's running away from it, running from us because he knows that we're the only thing in the world that he's vulnerable to. Because he has real feelings for us. For you, in particular."

"You love me, Walt! Don't you? If you love me so much, why the hell are you willing to go off, running around the world looking for him, and drag him back here kicking and screaming?" Mulder shouted. "He's competition, for God's sake!"

Walter raised his brows along with his voice. "Are you saying you don't want him back?"

"If he wants to come back, he will."

"He doesn't think he's welcome!"

"That's his problem. If he didn't believe me last night, he never will."

Walter had nothing to say to that, and finally went into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. He wondered how many hours lead-time Alex had. He glanced at the clock. Damn it; a good six hours, if not more. He glowered as he sat at the kitchen table. The bastard had managed to make himself right at home here, in both their hearts, regardless of Fox's juvenile conflicted issues over him. Now that he'd gone, the house felt... Empty.

For the first time in many years, Walter felt old.

Ten days and fourteen airports later, Alex sat in a remote hotel lounge, watching the sun rise. It was golden and full, yet it didn't fill the empty space inside him. If anything, it only reminded him of how alone he was. The only thing that gave him peace was the knowledge that somewhere, thousands of miles away, the same sun rose and set on a home in a beautiful wilderness, on a big warm bed, on two men who had each other, on two hearts that he loved.

END

Coming soon: Sunflower Seeds 5

 

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TITLE: Sunflower Seeds V: Home  
ARCHIVE: RatB, Persuaders, the Basement  
FEEDBACK:   
DISCLAIMER: this piece of slash fanfic is written purely for entertainment purposes; all characters and X-File series¹ situations referred to belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, FOX.  
PAIRING: Sk/M/K  
SEQUEL/CONTINUATION: yes, 5th  
RATING: NC-17 language, slashy m/m sex and discipline  
WARNING: This one contains discipline! YAY!  
SUMMARY: With Alex estranged and God-knows-where, Skinner and Mulder experience estrangement at home. But, home is where the heart is. [g]  
BETAS: Many, many grateful thanks to Jas, Candace, Lorelei and Jennie!

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Sunflower Seeds V

Home  
by Jami Wilsen

Mulder sat in the dark, the only light in the room provided by the healthy fire that still burned restlessly in the fireplace. A noise from the stairs made him look up.

"A penny for your thoughts? They look deep," Dana said, wondering why Mulder was still up. Her youngest had woken and she'd just managed to get him back to sleep.

"Scully, have you ever wondered if the choices you'd made up to the present moment were in reality just a series of impulsive irrational actions that were guided by the hand of fate and your whole life was something that you really had no control over?" Mulder's delivery of this was in his customary flat but curious monotone.

Dana could tell that something was bothering him. She raised her eyebrows at him. "Well, I can't say that I haven't suspected it sometimes, but I'd have to say that for the most part, I'm fairly certain that the choices I've made and the outcome of my life up to the present are purely my own responsibility. Why?"

Mulder was staring at the fire. "Just - I don¹t know. I get the feeling that maybe everything I've done, everything I fought for, was simply a haze of jumbled, inconclusive incentives, when in fact none of them were even close to what I was looking for."

"It was my understanding, the last time I was here, that you had made a particular choice and were happy with it. I take it this is no longer the case." Dana took a breath and said, "I was going to have a cup of hot chocolate. Why don't you join me?"

Mulder slowly pulled himself to his feet and wandered into the kitchen after her. When she opened cupboards, obviously trying to locate the cocoa, he opened one on the other side of the kitchen and got out the tin of drinking chocolate. He handed it to her, along with a half-filled bag of marshmallows.

She bustled about getting a pan and filling it with milk, putting it to heat on the stove and getting out two mugs. "UHT Long Life? Don't you have access to the real thing? It's skim, as well. What about cream? This stuff isn't real milk. I don't know how you can drink it."

Mulder shrugged. "It's easier. Besides, it's an acquired taste and we've adapted to it now."

"Mulder," Dana paused, wondering how to broach this, "is this anything to do with the fact that Krycek was staying here for a while?"

Mulder pulled a face and gave her a humorless smile. "Got it in one, Scully. Who've you been talking to?"

She poured the tablespoons of cocoa powder into the heating milk and stirred it with a whisk. "Walter," she admitted. "He told me a little bit about what happened. Also, Bill Peterson was telling me before we arrived that you had a guest, someone from your past. When he told me who it was, I understood why you two would react the way you did to having him here. I was surprised though to find you'd welcomed him with open arms."

Mulder shot her a frown. "What did Walt tell you?"

She poured the hot chocolate into the two mugs and turned off the burner on the stove. She took them both and sat one in front of Mulder and then took a seat at the kitchen table opposite him, warming her hands with the mug. She sipped cautiously. "Mulder, your relationships are your own business. I'm not here to pass judgment on you about with whom you choose to have them. But it seems to me that you drove Alex away."

Mulder stared at her in disbelief. "Not you, too," he said, with a slight note of disgust. "Look, I'm more than aware of that; you don't have to rub my nose in it."

She took a breath and made a face at him. "I think you don't really know what you want. When you're with Walter, you want Alex. When Alex is here, you don't want him here because you're afraid Walter wants him more than he does you. You're conflicted, Mulder."

"Tell me something I don't know," he started, but she interrupted him.

"Look, what would make you happy?"

"I don't know!" he said, miserably, looking down into his mug, absently noticing how the swirls of the melting marshmallow foam on top were taking the shape of a miniature spiral galaxy�

Dana studied him for a moment then looked back down at her own hot chocolate. "If there's one thing I've learned from being married and having children, it's that you get out of a relationship what you put into it. It will only work if you want it to. So maybe you should just ask yourself if you really want this."

Mulder licked his lips and looked back up at her. "I know. I already know that. But it's complicated. Walter -"

She shook her head. "Walter loves you. But there's room in his heart to accept Alex there as well. You've always wanted Alex - don't give me that look - I've known for years, Mulder. Every time anyone mentioned his name you practically jumped out of your skin," she remarked, dryly. "The question is, can you be as accommodating as Walter is and let both of them exist in your heart at the same time? I can't presume to tell you how to make a threesome work; I'm not sure I could do it, in your place. But without you, they don't have a threesome, and they certainly aren't going to do anything without you. It has to be something that all of you want."

Mulder put his face in his hands and then leaned back, casting his eyes to the ceiling. Sighing, he said tiredly, "I know. You're right. You're both right. I drove him away. And now I'm in danger of losing Walt, too. What can I do to get him back?"

She knew which 'him' Mulder was referring to and she took another sip. "You can stop avoiding answering the question. Do you want to make it work? And if so, what are you willing to change in the way you behave with them?"

"It's academic, Scully. He's gone!"

"You're right. Have you done anything about bringing him back? Or have you just been sitting here feeling bad about it? If you want him back, what's stopping you?"

"You weren't there, Scully! I went down on my knees in front of him and the bastard let me think that he accepted my apology� it was humiliating. For God's sake, he went to bed with us and then slipped out the next morning without even saying goodbye! It wasn't like I didn't try. I did!"

Dana could see the boiling anguish beneath the surface of his bleak exterior. She¹d noticed that both he and Walter had seemed as though they were just going through the motions, putting on a brave face for she and Peterson. It was impossible not to see the underlying sadness and tension in their faces. She put out a hand and touched his wrist. "I'm sorry. Listen, I had words with Walter. He suggested that it might be good for you to spend Christmas with us; you could come back with me and stay with us for a while. I don't know. It might help you to have some breathing room, have a change of scenery. Give you a chance to think things over. Walter said it was not going to be a very happy Christmas with just the two of you here. What do you think?"

Mulder looked up and met her eyes. He nodded slowly. It probably was a good idea, except that it made it uncomfortably clear that he and Walter were experiencing difficulty themselves. It would be too easy to pin the blame on Alex and say that he had successfully driven a wedge between them. Mulder knew that was untrue. Walter had refused to use sex as a means of comfort, and when Mulder had refused to talk about the issues facing them, Walter had been unhappy. In Walter's opinion, Mulder was simply perpetuating the problem by not being willing to accept the fact that he was unable to resolve his feelings for Alex or to deal with the pain his attitude and actions had caused Walter. For Scully was right; Walter had generously opened his heart to Alex - at first because he knew Mulder wanted - hell, needed some kind of resolution of his feelings for Alex, and then because he had grown quickly fond of Alex himself.

How could Mulder tell Walter that he couldn't do that? He just couldn't. He couldn't make himself pretend that Alex hadn't done the things he'd done in the past. Nor could he understand how Walter could simply be willing to make room for another person - just because Mulder wanted them. It raised questions about the strength of Walter's regard for him. Where he thought it had been the two of them, maybe Walter was right: Alex's shadow had always been there, between them. And it was Mulder's fault. Mulder hung his head again and closed his eyes.

The next morning, Walter spent an hour and a half shut in his small office downstairs talking with Peterson. Arrangements were made. It was hard. It was hard for Walter to watch them go, lifting away - and bearing his lover with them. Mulder had agreed to spend a few weeks with Dana and her family. Walter pursed his lips thoughtfully. It hurt to see Fox needlessly torturing himself. All he had to do was let go of the accusations and the pain. Walter knew Mulder had to forgive himself before he could really forgive Alex. All the pain - it was completely unnecessary. And now he was on a big guilt trip too, over having driven Alex away.

Walter had been unable to talk to him about it. Not for lack of trying, though. He'd tried to talk to Fox without success. His lover seemed trapped in his own heavy cloud of despair over Alex's departure. But when the unspoken remains left alone too long, it festers, and by the time Bill Peterson and Dana had arrived later that afternoon, he and Mulder were no longer even speaking to each other except when it was a polite necessity.

Walter knew something that Mulder didn't though. They had become a threesome, no matter how much Mulder tried to deny it.

He trusted Dana to keep Fox out of harm's way. Despite what Fox might believe, Walter had no intention of spending Christmas sitting in grey disenchantment in an empty house, alone in the wilds of the North.

No. Walter had a mission.

It was strange to see the stars above the city, high and bright, distant pinpoints, amidst the swirling snowflakes. Alex felt at home in Belgrade; the numerous strings of lights in the City Square were so beautiful. They didn't celebrate Christmas here, which made things easier. This place was another world entirely removed from the one he had run from. He was more than aware that he was running from it, too. But there had only been so much he could take. Mulder's constant needling of him, reminding him all too candidly at intervals that he, Alex, was still unacceptable in Mulder's regard and his heart. And therefore not welcome in their bed or their house. Correction, welcome in their bed but only with the provisory understanding that it was sexual comfort, nothing more. Mulder could kid himself all he wanted; Alex knew that Mulder did not love him. Mulder desperately wanted to, if only to keep Walter happy.

He shook himself angrily and ordered another pot of coffee. He liked the Serbian method of drinking coffee; it was thick, rich and gloopy. Thick enough to drown in, despite the ridiculously small amount that was served at one sitting. Thick enough to leave tracery patterns in the bottom of the tiny cups it was served in; patterns that the old women sitting in the table next to him eyed hungrily. Finally, with a wide smile, he offered his cup to the nearest one. She was obviously dying to read it for him.

Her eyes lit up and she took it, peering into it as if the mysteries of the universe were revealed to her in the little, wet, sludge trails of the grinds. For all he knew they probably were. In broken English she said, "You are a traveler? You are far from home. Ah, see here," she leaned over, and Alex frowned, trying to see what she saw and getting only a glimpse of brown, dried dregs like leaves, "you have a home but your heart was broken." She looked into his face and he suddenly became aware of how sharp and aware her small black eyes were as they looked into his, intently. "You go home, you have two hearts waiting. Only then is happiness yours. Otherwise it will not be, cannot be." And the other old women at their table nodded sagely and murmured as if she had uttered nothing but the most profound of truths.

He took his cup back. "I know," he said, with a tight, answering smile. "Thank you - hvala, hvala." Getting up, he shook the old woman's hand and kissed her in the customary fasion on both cheeks, nodded at them and left the café. There wasn't anywhere he could go that didn't hold some kind of reminder.

Pulling the collar of his coat closer about his neck against the bitter chill of the wind, he wandered along the streets for a while. It was so dark, and yet there was so much activity. The nightlife in Belgrade had surprised him; these people knew how to party. And all the women looked the same: svelte, voluptuous, dark-eyed black-widow spider princesses or cold Mediterranean beauties with glaciers for hearts and more steel balls than the brash, foolish young men who fell for them. But the fur hats that everyone wore reminded him of Russia and his previous travels in the ex-Soviet Union, and he didn't like that much. The all-pervading smell of boiled cabbage, glavatica, served to keep him grounded, however; this country literally had over twelve different ways of describing the same food. Not that he liked cabbage. But its prevalence kept him aware of where he was, not letting him slide back into a numb despair of disorientation.

Black, bare trees standing bereft beside closed houses and buildings, avenues of futile darkness and littered with emptiness; he passed it all, feeling safe in the knowledge that it matched his inner state so well. The slippery streets and sidewalks were packed with dirty snow and he nearly slid a few times on the ice.

This city was so bleak and miserable that he felt right at home here. Not only did the city retain its pride but its heritage in the midst of the rest of the world's censure. They hadn't survived two World Wars and countless bombings under the Americans, and too many other enemies to count, for nothing. They were survivors. The Serbians considered Russia their big brother and afforded no one else that respect. Alex fit in here; he could play the American or the Russian with equal aplomb. And his background would make him hardly noticeable - everyone and their uncle were either involved in the mafia, the military or running some kind of underworld scam. He had enough experience in all three to find his way around well enough.

Here, too, he fit in nicely with the native self-pity and pride that imbued all the landmarks and buildings; the very streets were composed of it, right down to their original foundations. Belgrade was used to affliction, and its people happily and contentedly carried on, refusing to bow down or crack under the pressure from outside. They had taken so many blows that they no longer cared what anyone thought of them. Many of the people themselves retained a marked innocence, unaware of the outside world's view of them. Alex felt for them. He could see their point of view, as parochial as it was. The entire nation of Serbia, as well as its sibling counterparts of Croatia, Bosnia and so on, were all more than twenty years behind the West. America and Britain were space-age compared to them. Of course, Italy wasn't much better; cleverly disguised with culture, history, architecture and the Catholic Church. And the television; Jesus, it was like a foreign time warp every time he saw a TV. The nightclubs were fun though: modern music with Serbian techno beat and Croatian lyrics.

He smiled grimly to himself: he felt right at home. He felt comfortable, surrounded by people who had done more than their share of suffering. He wasn't the only one with a story to tell; he wasn't alone here. Everyone he met in the street and in every café had a fascinating story, and a lot of memories and pain they carried on their backs.

And it was the last place anyone would think to look for him. It was unlikely his enemies would have the imagination to come up with Belgrade as an option. As he passed another disco the doors were swinging open to release stoned kids and pounding music; for a moment he thought he saw a glimpse of Harvey Keitel. He wouldn't be surprised: Belgrade boasted a number of high-profile visitors, for it was actually quite a busy city and had many political and cultural figures come and go on their way through various stops to other European cities like Vienna and Athens.

The hour was getting very late, and he was freezing. He finally took refuge in an all-night diner, with lighting that was so yellow it was almost painful. Serbski was close enough to Russian that he could get around all right here. He ordered pivo - beer - and a sandwich. He pulled out a newspaper he'd folded in three and stuffed in his pocket.

He'd been there barely five minutes when someone slid into the seat opposite him at the table. Alex frowned as he put down the newspaper. He turned white. It was Walter Skinner.

Walter nodded at him. "Alex." The way he said it spoke volumes. Where have you been, what have you been doing, what the hell did you think you were doing and when are you going to come to your senses... It was loaded and Alex's mind was suddenly gripped in a seizure of frightened panic.

"What the hell are you doing here? How did you find me?" Alex's reply was low and menacing as he tried to hide the unaccountable mixture of relief and pain he felt at seeing Walter again.

Jesus, he'd only been gone fifteen days. It sure hadn't taken Walter long to track him down. And he'd been careful. Fuck. And Walter looked so good; he looked warm and cozy against the cold city background, the winter coat he wore and the fur hat on his head... Alex wanted to throw himself into Walter's arms and just hold him - and be held. He swallowed.

Walter shrugged. "I took a chance. I've actually been here for three days now, looking for you. I figured you'd come here. I've visited this city before and knowing you and the state you were bound to be in, I guessed you'd find your way here." His brown gaze pinned Alex where he sat, stupefied and trapped.

Alex's eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you. Someone had to have tipped you off. There are a million other places I might have gone. I was thinking of Singapore, actually. I might try that next." He said it almost as if it was a threat.

Walter raised his eyebrows at him. "Running that far, huh? Has it helped?" He turned, looking at the man who brought Alex's sandwich on a plate and his beer. He offered some cash to him, saying "Yeden pivo?" The man took it and nodded.

Alex snorted at this. God knows where Walter had picked up the rudiments of Serbski - well, he did know some Russian and the two languages were so similar - but when the hell had he ever been in Belgrade? "Show it off, why don't you. Fine, you've caught up with me here. What do you want?"

Walter regarded him momentarily, gauging him. "You," he said, finally. Simple and direct.

Alex looked down, fiddled with his plate. He grabbed up the bottle and opened it, drinking it down simply to have something to do. But he couldn't deny the warmth and hope that surged through him at Walter's simple answer. It undid him; it began unravelling all the resolve he'd built up inside to not run home to both of them. Shit, days and days worth of resolute strength and pride, all undermined in a matter of seconds by just the hint of acceptance from this man.

Walter lifted his chin and nodded once at him. "You're hurting, I know. So am I. You left rather suddenly. I don't blame you, considering the circumstances. But wherever it is you're running to, I'm going to ask you simply this: take me with you. If you want to go to Singapore, fine, but I'll go with you. We can work this out, Alex. I'm not going to let go of you this time. You belong with us, and you know it."

Alex angrily faced him, setting the bottle down with a thud. "Us? Yeah, right; let us not forget dear Foxy. How is he? I doubt he's pining away back at the ranch, keeping the bed warm."

Walter raised a brow at him. "Actually, he was. Dana took him away to spend Christmas with her. She's looking after him for me while I've been looking for you."

Alex looked down at the sandwich. He wasn't hungry anymore. The thought of eating it made him ill; the food would taste like cardboard in his mouth. He swigged his beer again instead, wishing it were something stronger.

In an undertone, Walter admitted, "He doesn't know I'm here. He thinks I'm still at the lodge."

Alex's eyes shot back up to Walter's face. "You didn't tell him? Why not?"

Wearily, Walter opened his beer and drank from it. "Alex." He sighed and took another drink. "This is between you and me. Fox wants you, but he can't admit that he needs you. My relationship with him doesn¹t work anymore because you were always there in the back of his mind and when you arrived, you quickly made a place in our home as well as our hearts. You can't just leave without expecting to make some kind of impact by doing so. In the aftermath, I realized that we had become a threesome. Fox can't go back to it just being the two of us without my consent, and I don't want that; it isn't honest." He took another drink of his beer. "This is good, actually. Cheap, Yugoslavian beer. I'd forgotten it. But all of this is history, now. It is what it is. Alex, we need you back. I want you back. If you won't come back, at least let me stay with you for a while, see if we can't work something out. You and I never had a problem. And if you do decide to come back with me - in the end - then we'll deal with Fox together. Okay?"

Fortified by their surroundings and his relative freedom to choose, Alex was recovering quickly from the shock of having Walter sit down at his table so unexpectedly. He would have thought he'd be fighting emotions and tears but he felt strong inside, a sense of freedom that having the whole world to hide in gave him. "Okay. Singapore it is." He held up his own bottle, thrusting it forward to clink against Walter's.

Walter looked taken aback.

It was almost funny. Alex chuckled. "What, did you think I was going to refuse you? I think you underestimate your powers of persuasion."

Walter's brow furrowed slightly. He really hadn't expected such a swift capitulation.

Alex shrugged. "You're right; I never had a problem with you."

"You could have talked to me," Walter pointed out, a bit stiffly.

Alex looked out the window. "I know. I needed to get - some space. Some breathing room. It was all so domestic; I felt like a houseboy. I know you never intended it that way but I haven't lived with anyone else in years, let alone in one place that long. I needed a break."

"From Mulder," Walter countered.

Alex's gaze slid back to meet his, squarely, not bothering to play any games. "Yeah." He picked up his sandwich and took a bite; his mouth was still dry but he realized the knot of tension had already begun to unwind in his belly. "Whatever you do," Alex said, around a mouthful, "do not look at the men sitting at that table across the room. Please. They're all packing. And they're having a business meeting."

Out of the corner of his eye, Walter managed to get a vague impression of five nondescript, ordinary-looking Serbian men all twenty-five to thirty-five years old, dressed in innocuous dark coats and jeans. Nothing to distinguish them from anyone else, really. But he trusted Alex's warning. Packing what? For all he knew, it could be AK47s. No, they admired Russians: Kalashnikovs. He shook his head and sighed. "Drugs? Or mafia?" he asked.

Alex shrugged again. "Probably both, who knows? Where are you staying?"

Walter watched him down the last two bites of the sandwich and a stab of lust ran through him. Watching Alex eat was virtually an act of voyeurism. In this place, after all they had been through, and not really knowing if he would be able to find him here, Walter found the danger and the odor of their European surroundings abruptly arousing. Plus he hadn't been able to have sex with Mulder at all since Alex's departure, not without it being an act that would have perpetuated Mulder's avoidance and denial problem.

And Alex looked so good; self-pity, it seemed, did wonders for his color. Sulking seemed to have helped him take better care of himself. On the run or not, Alex looked fit and at ease to be in his element; the wandering, contemporary dark prince.

He forced himself to look away, stared out the window, and finished his beer.

He became aware that Alex had gone quite still and silent; his eyes flew back to him only to find Alex smiling at him. He remembered Alex's question; he'd completely blanked out. He flushed.

"I missed you, too," Alex said, in a husky soft tone that, unbeknownst to him, sealed his fate; Walter was going to find a way to get this boy back up to his hotel room if it was the last thing he did tonight.

"Yeah, well, don't forget what I told you, back home a while ago," Walter growled. "I said if you ever ran, I'd find you. And give you the biggest spanking of your life. Remember?"

Alex paused, his smile gone, his eyes going quite dark and his skin suddenly taking on a slight glow. He licked his lips. "Promises, promises."

Walter suddenly found his jeans were too tight for him to remain sitting comfortably.

Alex drained his bottle and set it down. Then he took out his wallet and laid down a tip, wedging it under the empty bottle. "Let's get out of here." He got to his feet. It had abruptly become absolutely imperative that they find a room, somewhere, somehow.

Out from under the harsh, sallow, yellow light of the diner and back under the orange glow of the streetlights, Alex reminded Walter of a fallen angel, dark and pale, untouchable, aloof from the seediness and danger, his beauty setting him above the rest of the people they passed. Alex seemed part of the natural environment here. Walter was struck by how he walked, even given the treacherously icy sidewalk. He stalked as if he owned the place, as if these streets were his territory. Alex glanced at him and his eyes were bright. Walter caught his breath. He was quickly growing so hard that he was going to have to find a way to make some adjustments...

Alex found his entire body thrumming with anticipation, following Walter as they wandered back towards the city center to locate Walter's hotel on the other side of town. The streets were alive; it was comforting to know that they were part of it rather than outside of it. And he kept looking over at Walter, reassuring himself that he was really there. That it wasn't a dream that Walter had actually come all this way just to find him. No one had ever done anything like this before, not in all the years Alex could remember. It made him feel wanted. He liked it, and wanted more of it. He wondered when he had actually fallen in love with Walter Skinner.

Hard to tell when, exactly, but he guessed it was probably the first time he'd confronted him once he had risen in the Consortium ranks. Alex remembered that moment of seeing Walter again after so long; Walter unable to threaten him, the feeling of power and the way Walter had stared back at him from behind his desk at the Bureau, refusing to surrender, meeting the challenge. It had made him hard then, almost as hard as he was right now at the thought of Walter making good on his threat to spank him when they reached the hotel.

The wind had grown even icier as it blew around the corners of buildings and down the dark, dank streets. Walter found himself hunching inside his coat against it. "You couldn't have picked a warmer place, could you?" he grumbled.

Alex's answering grin was feral and stark in the dim light of the streets. "Harder to feel sorry for yourself in a balmy, tropical paradise, don't you think?"

A shuddering chill ran through Walter, a strange sensation given the heat that was rising all along his bloodstream and his skin. He felt electric, alive. "Then why Singapore?"

Alex turned to him with a slight shrug. "I don't know. Picked it at random. Sounded good at the time. Who knows? Maybe we'll find out why when we get there." Alex pulled his coat tighter about him, his teeth chattering - and not just from the cold. "Where are we going?"

Walter stopped in front of the hotel and pulled open the glass doors to the lobby. "We're here." He led the way, making his way to the desk and checking his messages.

Alex stood, dark-eyed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Walter regarded him and a smile curled his lip before he could stop it. "Are you alright?"

"Bastard. Prick. Tease. Which room are we?" Alex looked around for the elevator.

Chuckling, Walter led the way. In the elevator though, Alex kept his eyes facing front, not looking at him. As a pang of doubt ran through him, Walter gently inquired, "Not having second thoughts, I hope?" Please, please, no. Please.

Alex gave him a desperate, glazed look, like he was drowning. "If I - If -I - we start -anything here, we'll never make it to the room." The tension radiating off him was enough to make Walter tingle.

Walter offered up a silent prayer. Thank you, God. Now just let this last, at least until I can get him into the bed.

Finally they made it out of the elevator and with a feeling of unavoidable impetus, Walter was turning the key in the lock and reaching inside the door to turn on the light. Alex came in after him and Walter locked the door behind them.

Alex was impressed. He caught Walter's eye. "This is great; jeez, Walter, what you laying out for this?"

Walter raised his brows at him. "I can't believe you'd forget the rate of exchange, here. Right now, especially, with the holiday rates it's dirt cheap. You picked a good time to hide out here." He took off his coat and hat, as well as his boots.

Alex followed suit, feeling self-conscious and more exposed without his coat to cover the front of his jeans - and his obviously erect state.

"Do you want anything?" Walter asked, wondering if they needed room service, as he went to turn up the thermostat on the heater.

Alex shook his head briefly and went to the window. They were six floors up. The nighttime skyline view was high enough to cover the grime and corruption with a covering of wintry postcard perfection. He smiled.

Setting his glasses down on the cabinet, Walter came up behind him and carefully put his arms around him, just holding him close. Alex leaned back against him with a little sigh, his right hand going up to cover Walter's.

"Missed you so much," said Walter, roughly. He finally gave in to the impulse that he'd been checking since he'd caught up with him in that garish diner. He placed a warm kiss on the back of Alex's neck, not moving away but continuing to mouth the hot skin.

His caresses got quite a response; Alex sank back against him harder and gasped, his hand suddenly clutching at him.

Walter pulled him to face him and found himself suddenly with his arms full and his lips caught by Alex's fierce kiss, demanding, desperate, and uncontrolled.

Finally, Alex pulled away, to gasp out harshly, between catching his breath, "Need you, want you -"

Walter firmly held him at arm's length. "Yeah, me too," he muttered. Then added, "First things first, though. You put us - me - through hell. You've had me wandering around searching all over for you. If you hadn't used that particular passport in that particular airport in Zurich, I never would have caught up with you. And I'm not the only one looking for you. There are a number of people who would like nothing better than to see you dead, you know." Walter allowed his fear to come through in his voice. "I don't want to lose you, now."

Alex breathed out with a controlled effort. "I'm sorry. I am, Walt. I didn't... I didn't mean to hurt you. I really didn't. It's just -"

Walter shushed him with a kiss. "I know. But you know what this means. I'm not going to let you off scot-free. It wouldn't be right. Would it?"

Alex suddenly gathered what Walter was on about. He grinned. "No, it wouldn't."

Walter began taking off his belt. "You know what this is for, don't you?" Walter's voice was calm, nearly inflectionless.

Alex nodded slowly, wordlessly. The happy, silent shout of joy and exultation that rang through his head left him almost giddy, not just with expectation but also with relief and pleasure.

"Take off your jeans. And kneel over the bedside."

Walter's voice was strong, leaving no mistake that there was no tolerance or room for anything but obedience. Somehow that tone helped, leaving Alex with the unmistakable feeling of security. In bringing the lesson sharply home, Walter was bringing Alex home, finally, along with it. Walter understood; he knew what Alex needed, what he craved. And he would take care of him. Soon Alex was kneeling at the side of the bed, his ass bare with his jeans and shorts bunched up on the floor beneath his knees, providing them with a measure of padding. His cock though - Jesus, his cock was achingly hard, dripping now. He didn't think he was going to make it through this without coming. His face was burning and he was finding it hard to catch his breath. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so conscious of every passing second, so aware of his surroundings. Hyperaware of Walter coming to stand behind him. As the belt suddenly landed on his ass, blazing across the skin and leaving an arc of fire there, he stopped breathing and closed his eyes and waited.

Waited for the next one. It didn't come. Still he waited, tense, his buttocks clenching so tight by now that he could only imagine the picture he presented to Walter. Disappointment momentarily flared through him.

But then Walter was sitting beside him on the bedside to take his right arm and help him to his feet. "Take off the sweater. Just leave the shirt on." Walter dropped the belt, letting it fall to the floor. He knew Alex needed a more personal touch. Using his hand on Alex's bare skin would be less painful than the belt but no less direct and inescapable. He didn't want to hurt Alex; that wasn't what he was trying to accomplish. He wanted to pleasure him and he knew how much Alex wanted it; knew how much Alex loved being touched. Alex needed the security and warmth of this act and was trusting Walter to get it right for both of them.

Alex did so, feeling somehow more naked for keeping the shirt on than if he had been told to remove it. He wished Walter would touch his cock but knew he wouldn't. And then Walter was drawing him over his knees, both of them; helping him keep his balance, steadying him with a warm hand as he settled him across his lap.

Walter idly traced his hand along the red stripe across Alex's butt. The caress both burned and soothed; Alex couldn't help twitching. Walter laid his hand on the smooth skin and let it rest there, warming up from the contact with the heated cheeks. "Hard to tell who needs this more, you or me."

"P-Please," Alex strained, hoarsely.

And then there was no sensation left in his world other than Walter's hand coming down on his ass, the slaps raining haphazardly and hard, striking even on his lower thighs occasionally. He twisted under them and didn't even bother trying to restrain his gasps and finally the cries that were torn from him. It wasn't pain; it was absolution, it was security. Here at last, with Walter, Alex had come home. Walter was home, for him. And the punishing hardness of each spank as it landed on his now flaming scarlet ass as Walter did not let up for a moment tipped him over the edge of reason and he found himself shaking, shuddering, trying desperately to press the tip of his cock against Walter's leg. Of course, Walter had been careful to position him just so that he wouldn't be able to.

Walter allowed all his frustration, all his pent-up anxiety and all the pain he'd suffered over this man wash away with each blow to the rosy ass bouncing in his lap. It was strange, that this act should somehow be so perfect and profound as to leave him feeling clean.

He suddenly realized he had to stop. Alex had too high a pain threshold for him to know when it might actually be too much, and was trusting Walter to know when to stop.

Breathing hard, his erection like stone in his jeans and screaming to be freed, Walter said gruffly, "Get up. Get on the bed, on your belly."

Alex did so, shaking slightly in every limb, scrambling forward to climb onto the bed as Walter frantically shucked off his clothes and searched for the essential tube of lube in his drawer of socks and shorts.

Turning back to the bed, Walter found himself brought up short by the sight. In the light of the one lamp on in the hotel room, Alex lay facedown, trembling, almost visibly trying not to grind himself into the sheets, his reddened ass in the air with his legs apart slightly. Walter tried to swallow in a throat that had gone very, very dry.

Clambering up to kneel between his legs and force them apart even more, Walter ran one hand along the softer skin of Alex's inner thighs before running his fingers along the velvet of his balls, and then over the rose-red of his punished asscheeks. Walter grinned wolfishly, suddenly. He knew just what to do to drive Alex insane. And leaning down, he blew along the sweet crack, all the way down; across the tight pucker and right down to the sac, which was now so drawn up his balls were nearly to bursting point. Alex was not going to last long, Walter was certain. And then ran his tongue down the same path his breathy trail had taken.

Alex let out something that sounded like a strangled shriek, accompanied by a jerking, twisting motion he tried to abort, followed by a deep groan. Muffled by the covers, Alex's voice reached Walter's ears, "Jesus Christ, fuck, Walter... please, God..."

Walter made several tiny, teasing pokes with the tip of his tongue at the now fluttering anus, eliciting more gasps and choking sounds from Alex. Finally, he decided to be merciful, and with one smooth motion, he plunged his tongue straight into the musky opening, his senses flooded with the remembered scent of Alex, the tide of treasured memories of this act and the pleasure it had given both of them. The sweetness of making Alex squirm, of giving him this pleasure, and for the both of them to know it was merely the prelude to the coup de grace, it made it all the more perfect on the heels of having just spanked him. A simple series of little thrusts and Alex was nearly sobbing, his hand gripping and twisting the covers, his back and shoulders shaking with the effort to not buck upwards or shove backwards too hard.

But having to hold down Alex's squirming body was too much and Walter had had enough. He had to take him; getting up once more, this time snatching up the lube and squeezing an over-generous amount onto his fingers, he anointed his already-weeping, purple-headed cock and then ran his hand down Alex's crack to wipe away the excess lube where it would do the most good.

Alex felt the slickness, and then one finger slid into him, felt as it moved for a short time and then withdrew, and he knew what Walter was going to do. He held himself tightly in readiness, waiting, waiting... "Please," he whispered.

Walter moved up to lean on one hand while using the other to guide the tip of his cock to Alex's asshole, and then pressed in just enough to allow an inch inside, then another, as Alex sucked in a breath.

Alex was so hot, so tight, so fucking velvet and silk and wet smoothness inside, Walter didn't think he was going to last much longer if he didn't do this slowly. Trembling, Walter tried to hold back.

Alex was writhing under him, feeling nearly angry at the teasing. Walter was being too careful, too gentle. He wanted it hard, rough, inconsiderate. There was a measure of it as Walter's movements rubbed and chafed the sore skin of his ass. He tried to shove backwards onto him and ended up with Walter pushing him down harder, using his weight to keep him in place as he slid in at his own pace.

Finally, Alex gritted out, "Fuck me, Walter, for God's sake, fuck me! Don't - don't play with me. Just do it! Harder... Harder, please! Fuck-" and the reward of being abruptly filled with the entire length of Walter's cock inside of him, stretching him to fullness - it pierced him to the core, so that nothing existed but his ass and Walter's delicious weight on him, the hardness of it, rendering him incapable of doing anything but ineffectually wriggling slightly, under him...

And then there was only the purest heat and incredible exhilaration of Walter reaming his ass, thrusting into him over and over again, the tempo increasing until Walter was suddenly shuddering atop him as he shot hard into him again and again. The deep groan that was pulled from Walter was too much as he clutched at Alex's waist and his shoulder, fucking him so hard, so hard - and then Alex's world dissolved into that swirling, promised, awaited darkness filled with little sparkles around the edges, the pleasure blasting through him as his cock erupted in the long-sought release against the bedcover.

Sweating, Walter found himself opening his eyes and wondering how much time had actually passed between that... That incredible exercise in worshipping Alex's ass, and the present moment of awareness. All seemed right with the world. Alex, naked under him, on his bed. The prospect of retirement and hiding from the rest of the world not so bad now, as long as it afforded him this eternal luxury. It almost hardly seemed to even matter that they weren't at home, in the big bed in his bedroom, with Fox nearby or with them in the bed -

Alex moaned under him. "Get - get off."

Chuckling breathily, Walter moved off of him, slapped a hand uncaringly on his unprotected butt as Alex jumped. "How about a shower?"

Alex was glaring at him at the slap and gingerly winced as he touched his own hand to his ass. Not too bad; hardly any welts - amazing. It felt like he'd sat down naked on a bucking rodeo bull in Mexico City in July. With another groan, he picked himself up and went into the bathroom, pulling off his shirt and removing the prosthetic. The steam was already clouding up the room and Alex opened the shower door to reveal Walter soaping up his body. Alex stood, blankly staring, rapt at the sight. Walter grinned at him. "Get in here."

Alex obeyed; feeling like a lost truant boy who'd decided to behave. He licked his lips. "I can't believe I was running - from this."

Walter regarded him. "Yeah. Temporary insanity is the only thing I can come up with."

Alex shook his head. "Why in hell would you give up Fox for this, though?"

Walter gave him a penetrating stare. "Who says I am? I'm gonna have both of you and I'm not taking anymore shit about it, either. When we do get back, Mulder's ass is history. It's going to be kicked. Seriously. I'm not going to allow him to cling to his absurd issues anymore. I think I owe him that. I should have taken care of it before that last incident made you run."

Alex shook his head again, grabbing up the shampoo. "Things were building up to a breaking point. He would have ended up pushing me over the edge sooner or later."

Walter stopped and turned around to face him, grabbing him, forcing his undivided attention. "Don't you ever run from me again."

But it wasn't a threat. There was too much love. Alex stared back at him, matching his gaze evenly. "I won't."

Walter seemed to let out a breath then, relief covering him. "Jesus, what we go through for peace and happiness. Look, do we really need to bother with Singapore?"

Alex shrugged. "I guess not. One hotel room is as good as another, and I guess your bedroom is the most comfortable. Less chance of being disturbed, too."

Walter grinned at him. "Home, then?"

And Alex answered by moving in against him and pulling his head towards him for a long, wet, lingering kiss under the showerhead.

Walter pulled back and said wonderingly, as the water continued to spray in droplets on them like a little private waterfall, "So beautiful. You are, Alex. Beautiful. I don't think you realize how much."

A little wince crossed Alex's face and he said, "Sure."

Walter smiled and kissed him again, waiting until Alex went limp under him once more before moving back and saying, "I thought we'd gotten over that one. I guess I'll just have to keep saying it until I convince you."

Alex let his gaze drop lower, and then even lower, before lifting his eyes back up again. "Yeah? Well, I'm not alone. You're-" he paused, "sexy as hell; and irresistible. You make me shake, do you know that?"

"I noticed," Walter replied. "I also noticed that you are a bottom-hog." Then laughed low in his throat, delighted, as Alex blushed. "Come on, we're getting pruney."

Walter stepped out, leaving him to finish using the soap.

After he'd left the bathroom, with a towel wrapped around his waist, Alex found Walter lying on the bed, leaning on his elbow. Walter announced, "I'm hungry. What do you want?"

Alex shook his head. "I ate earlier. It's close - " he checked the clock on the bedside table, "Jesus, it's close to midnight." He gave a funny little frown. "How did that happen?"

"Pivo," Walter said, gravely. "How many did you have?"

Alex stared at him. "One. With you, there in the diner, with that sandwich."

Walter looked at him and then burst out laughing. "So, this whole time that I thought you were stoned, you were just, what, consumed with lust?"

Alex sat down on the bed and then leaned back, letting the top of his head rest against Walter's chest. Walter absently ran a hand up Alex's body from the towel at his waist, to stroke his cheek, then his jaw. "Well, I'm starving."

"So am I," Alex murmured, and Walter looked down at him at the tone of his voice. And caught his breath at the look mirrored there in Alex's green eyes that always gave away so much.

"I love you," Walter said, quietly.

Alex smiled. "Love you, too." And then couldn't say anything more because he was caught in one of Walter's very fervent kisses. Alex realized that his world was no longer cold and dark... It was filled with love and warmth and light once more. And he mentally kicked himself for falling into Mulder's issues as though they were his. Never again, he silently promised himself in a corner of his mind as Walter blocked out everything with sweetness and his tongue.

A million miles away in another part of the world, Mulder was sitting on Scully's couch watching her and her doctor husband build a snowman outside on the lawn with their kids. It was so normal and safe and real. So domestic. He knew instinctively that they had all been right to suggest he come here. But he didn't like the thought of Walter sitting at home alone all these days. Christ, it had been weeks, really.

A few times he'd found himself reaching for the phone only to remember that Walter had specifically said, "I'll call you." He didn't want him phoning him up seeking emotional reassurance. Mulder couldn't understand why Walter was shutting him out over Alex. It didn't make sense. Scully had spoken with him about it a couple of times, but he still couldn't understand why he was the one who was in the wrong, when Alex was the ex-killer, the ex-Consortium villain, their old enemy, and Walter was willing to forgive him all his crimes and yet wouldn't forgive Mulder, his own lover, for having conflicted issues about said enemy. He frowned, angry again just thinking about it.

Never one to heed warnings, Mulder finally picked up the phone and dialed Walter's number. He hoped the signal would be boosted; Frohike's gadgets didn't always work according to spec and the range to the northern parts of Canada was often disturbed by electromagnetic storms in the ionosphere and the more orthodox winter storms beneath.

After five rings, Walter answered it. "Hello?"

Mulder hesitated. "Walt?"

There was a deep sigh. "Fox, I told you not to call me. I said I would call you."

"It's been weeks, Walt. I was worried about you. I've waited for you to call but -"

"I'm fine. How're you doing? The kids aren't running you ragged, I hope? And how's Dana? She taking good care of you?"

"No, they're - they're fine. Listen, Walt, I just wanted to talk-"

Walter muffled the mouthpiece, talking to someone else but Mulder couldn't make out the words. "Fox, I can't talk right now. I'm kind of busy. Look, can you just - just stay where you are, okay? Give me until tomorrow. I'll call you, alright? Tomorrow, I promise. I have to go." There was a longer pause filled with silence. "Love you, my Fox."

Confused, Mulder said, "I love you, too, Walt. I-" The line went dead.

Mulder stared at it in his hand. Then replaced the receiver.

Dana came inside to get something. She noticed him standing there looking bewildered. Red-faced, out of breath, eyes starry and bright from the cold, a smile on her face, she said, "Hey. Mulder. You okay?"

"I - That was Walter..."

"What? Is he back already? My God, I didn't think-"

"Back? Back?" Mulder repeated, as though trying the idea out in his mind like a new flavor.

Dana stopped. "I mean - sorry. Look, they're waiting for me. Tell me about it when we come back in, okay?" And she was gone, the door closing behind her with a swirl of winter cold.

Mulder thoughtfully watched them playing outside from the window. Back. Back from where? And who was with him up there, that he'd be so busy he couldn't speak to him? A niggling thought grew and the suspicion began to take root. He must've found Alex. Correction: he might have found Alex... The hope, relief and annoyance that rose to the forefront of his mind at this possibility alarmed him. He did want closure on that whole episode; it had left a bitter taste in his mouth and he felt as though he'd humiliated himself before Alex for nothing. Having Alex leave as though he didn't believe Mulder's passionate declarations had hurt, for he had been completely sincere about not doing that to him again. Whatever it was that he had done. He still wasn't entirely sure what he had said to hurt him, exactly, except that it was probably the manner in which he said it. But then, talking to Alex was always a minefield. Alex was so touchy that the least little thing he said could be leaped on and used against him.

It was with growing restlessness, and an inability to see how it could be anyone else up there at the lodge with Walter, that Mulder impatiently waited for Dana to come back inside. He had to restrain himself from going out and demanding that she tell him then and there.

When the family all piled back inside, however, it was a chaotic scene with children's wet mittens and snowboots being kicked about and retrieved, wet jackets and cold ears taken to the kitchen and cups of hot chocolate being poured.

He remained in the living room and tried to control his breathing. At last, Dana came into the room and said, "You called him? What did he say?"

Mulder folded his arms. "Not a lot. Just that he'd call me tomorrow. Scully, what the hell's going on? He found Alex, didn't he? Why didn't you tell me? Where was he?"

Dana held out her hands. "Whoa. Mulder, I didn't know he'd found him. All I know is that he went looking for him. I know that he wanted you to be here for two reasons. First, because having you there would probably just have made Alex run again, without listening to what you had to say. And second, because you needed some time here to regroup, think it over. Okay? We weren't deliberately trying to keep you in the dark. Besides, we didn't see the need in getting your hopes up if he couldn't find him after all. It was a shot in the dark, really."

Mulder was scowling. He sighed. "Okay. I get it. Where was Alex, though?"

Dana shrugged. "I have no idea. Walter wasn't going to keep phoning up here with updates. He said he would only call if he had news. I think you just beat him to it though, from the sound of things. Is Alex with him, there?"

"I think so. Someone was."

"Where is he?"

Mulder shook his head. " I assumed he was at home, but now I don't know."

Dana regarded him. "Well, we'll know more tomorrow. In the meantime, I suggest you give some thought as to how you want to handle this, if Alex is back. Do -" she stopped. "Mulder, do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "Thanks, Scully," he murmured.

"Dana," she corrected, absently. "I keep telling you, I ceased to be a Scully a long time ago."

The night was long and the hours leading up to the expected phone call from Walter were tense for Mulder, who waited in the living room and virtually refused to leave it, jerking whenever anyone came into the room.

When it did finally ring, sometime after lunch, Mulder snatched it up. "Hello?"

Walter sounded as though he were on a plane. Or something with a loud engine. "Fox? Listen, why don't you come home? I'll be there, okay? We can do our talking then. I can't talk long, here."

Mulder was pacing the floor. "Walt, where are you?"

"On the road, on the way home. I've got the truck, alright? I've arranged with Peterson for you to have a lift in the chopper. Fox, please come home?" Walter was waiting.

Mulder licked his lips. "Alright. But you owe me an explanation, damn it. Jesus, I was really worried about you."

He could hear the broad smile in Walter's reply. "I'm fine, Fox. And you will be too. Just come on home. I love you."

"I love you too, Walt. Bye."

"Bye." And the connection was cut, but not before Mulder's sharp ears caught the sound of another man's voice, and he was willing to swear it was Alex...

As the helicopter flew through the sky, Mulder dozed, dreaming of barely-remembered visions of green eyes, dark hair and a shy, sometimes smirking grin. More accessible was the longer impression of holding him close in the dark, though. And the feeling of Walter pressing up behind him, always ending up being slightly squashed between the two of them and basking in the warmth of it.

Maybe it was selfish of him to want that back, but he knew he wasn't alone. The others wanted it, too. And a sneakily more aware and alert part of his consciousness knew that whatever the repercussions upon his arrival, he would be happy to be back, and to see them both there. Regardless of his previous misgivings, Mulder realized it was a case of not knowing what he'd held until he'd let it slip from his fingers. He'd spent the entire time since Alex's departure in a state of denial, steadfastly pretending to himself that he didn't want to go through with the whole reunion scene... if they were ever so lucky as to find Alex returned, safe and whole. Now that he was on the verge of seeing both his lovers again, he could see in retrospect just how close to the edge he had taken all of them with his inability to forgive Alex for... for what? Being Alex? His past actions?

All of that seemed to fade in the light of the events of the future awaiting him upon his landing. All he wanted now was to just... hold him. And be held. And be forgiven himself.

For the first time, Mulder looked inside himself and saw something he hadn't wanted to see, had been hiding from in fact from the very beginning: that no matter what anyone else did, it didn't warrant him hurting anyone else. Treat others as you'd like to be treated. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Turn the other cheek. Christ, just because Walter had convinced Alex to come back, it didn't necessarily follow that Alex would forgive him. He'd taken it for granted that Alex, being in love with him, would always do so, no matter what. And suddenly, he was ashamed at ever having hit him. Ever. He felt sick, at the swift and nearly perfect recollection of each and every time he had lashed out at Alex and hit him, both physically and verbally, each blow as thoughtless and justified as the others. He shook himself. Falling into a guilt trip about this, though, was precisely what Walt was always telling him was not the way of to deal with it.

He took a breath and opened his eyes, watching the snow-covered terrain pass beneath them as they ate up mile after mile in the air. And he realized that he loved Walter... And he loved Alex. He wanted them both like food -like oxygen. They were necessary in his life. Having them both handed back to him like this was - it was almost as though Destiny was saying, 'here, even though you didn't appreciate it enough when you had it before; here's one more chance, do the right thing this time'. And he intended to do just that.

When they finally neared the lodge and touched down, Mulder could see Walter making his way over to them, in the driving snow blown up by the blades of the chopper.

Walter helped him get his bags unloaded and carry them away from the mock snowstorm. They trudged in silence with the heavy bags until the chopper had finally passed far enough from view and then Walter found himself flat on his back on the snow, with Mulder on top of him, hugging him.

"I'm sorry, Walt. I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me."

"Hey, hey. It's okay. Everything's fine. Let's -" he laughed, as Mulder continued to squeeze him right there in the snow.

"I didn't think you would be happy to see me," Mulder said.

"Well, I most certainly am. Let's get up and get back inside. Fox. Fox, it's alright." He tried to kiss away that worried expression on Mulder's face.

Mulder returned the kiss, and then sat up. His face cleared somewhat. He stood, and reached down a gloved hand to help Walter up. Together, they dragged his things back to the house.

With a simultaneously sick and joyful feeling roiling in his stomach, Mulder let Walter open the door and go inside, first. He followed him with his heart pounding, looking about quickly. Disappointment and intense relief washed over him as he saw there was no sign of Alex. They took off their coats and gloves and snow-covered boots and left them in a moderately tidy pile behind the door.

Mulder's bags were piled off to the right. He wanted to take them upstairs because the sight of them reminded him that he hadn't yet fully arrived.

He turned to Walter, his heart in his mouth - which was very, very dry. He bit his lip. He asked, in a very low, almost inaudible voice, "What if he doesn't want to see me?"

Walter frowned and then smiled at him. "No, don't worry. He's in the kitchen, probably. Or the pantry. He's cooking dinner. Come on. It's some kind of Yugoslavian pastry dish. Geebaneetsa, I think it's called. It's the national food." Walter shook his head and gave him a wry look. "I always found it a bit bland."

"Is that where he was? Yugoslavia?"

"Yeah. Belgrade. Come on." Walter took his hand and pulled him from the spot to which he seemed to have suddenly become rooted.

Mulder felt lightheaded. He really didn't deserve for this to be as easy as it appeared to be. Surely. His brain had turned to jelly and all that mattered was that he remember how to speak. He was so tense now that he was almost trembling. His feet were suddenly made of lead and he felt so ashamed that he was certain his face was red.

At the doorway of the kitchen, Walter took pity on him. "Mulder, he's looking forward to seeing you. I promise."

Mulder swallowed and went into the kitchen. Walter sat down at the table where he'd obviously been sitting before Mulder arrived; a half-drunk cup of tea was there.

And then Alex emerged from the pantry, wiping his hands. He was wearing an apron. But when he expectantly and hesitantly looked straight at Mulder, Mulder found all the things he meant to say had fled, leaving him staring, unable to breathe.

Alex stared back at him, his eyes wide. Tentatively, he came into the room and stood by the table, absentmindedly rubbing the flour off his hands, both the real one and the new one.

Walter took a breath. "For God's sake, you guys. Say something."

"Alex?" Mulder managed.

Alex let out his breath. "Mulder, I -"

In two short paces, Mulder had crossed the distance to him and had flung his arms around him, hugging Alex to him hard, unwilling to let go.

Alex was holding him back, returning the pressure, shaking just as badly as he was.

They stood there like that, eyes closed, just holding onto each other, in the perfect warmth of the comfortable renewal of the feel of it.

"Mine." Apart from that broken entreaty, Mulder couldn't think what else to say. He was close to tears, with a lump in his throat.

And then Walter was there, enfolding both of them in one of his large, expansive hugs. He kissed both on them on the head and said, "We're home. Let's keep it that way."

Mulder nodded, still clinging to Alex.

Alex finally lifted his head. His lashes were wet and he was blinking excessively. He didn't meet Mulder's eyes. Mulder grabbed his chin and made him face him. "I love you, Alex. Please believe that. Do you?"

Alex nodded, a slightly resigned look in his eyes.

Mulder kissed him desperately, just pressing his mouth to Alex's lips, not demanding, just kissing him, letting all the love and forgiveness that he felt flow into this one act, hoping that Alex could feel it. And then Alex was returning it, his right hand coming back around to the back of his neck and pulling Mulder against him more firmly.

When they broke off, Alex's eyes weren't any less bright or full, but he was smiling. "Love you, too, Foxy."

Shakily, Mulder said, "Let's not have any more of that running off then, huh?"

Alex gave a little shake of his head. "No way. You're stuck with me now."

Some tired, desperate part of Mulder longed to just keep hold of him and weep on his shoulder, into his neck, fold him within his arms and never let go. But he was dangerously close to losing it right here and now, so he reluctantly released his hold on Alex, letting him go to the stove to check the food. But it was more a chance for Alex to catch his breath than any real danger of burning dinner, for Walter had conscientiously stirred things as the two of them stood there lost to the world.

Mulder sat down at the table, on Walter's right, watching Alex as he moved about. He turned to Walter. "Aren't you going to-" he stopped, wondering how to address this. "Are there going to be repercussions, for what happened?" Unspoken: are you mad at me?

"What do you think?" Which was: yeah, of course, but only until I've tanned your ass.

Mulder's eyes narrowed. He cleared his throat. "Later, then?" A reprieve. He was really begging: please get it over with?

"Later. Let's just concentrate on being happy, for a while. It's such a relief to have us all here in the same place, in one piece." Translation: you are so fucked, it's unbelievable.

"Yeah. It's so good to be back." Happily: thanks for forgiving me.

At this, Alex turned and with a slight smile at Mulder, he quipped, "Home is where the heart is." Which of course could also be translated as: I love you, therefore I forgive you. But if you think you're in the clear you are so wrong.

Nervously, Mulder glanced back to Walter, as if for reassurance. Or: what the hell does he mean by that?

But Walter simply smiled fondly at him.

Alex carefully managed to keep himself occupied while the two of them sat at the table. He felt safer this way, having something that needed his attention and stopped him from getting caught up too tightly in anything else. But every time he looked over at Mulder, he could see the almost desperate look in his face, as though he was constantly reassuring himself Alex was still there. It didn't seem to have any hint of the previous vibe he'd grown so used to. That accusing, slightly mocking expression that had always put him in his place... If anything, it was almost as if Mulder had suddenly recognized that he was no longer the dominant one - and Mulder was now bottom dog, Alex realized, because Mulder had abused his position over him he'd lost it and it had now shifted to Alex. Interesting.

He stopped at this thought, straightened, and turned to look at Walter who, feeling his eyes on him, looked back and seemed to confirm this, with both a twinkle in his eye and a definite narrowing of his gaze. When Alex grinned at him, Walter winked.

Fuck. Mulder was toast. Alex bent back to the oven and opened it. He wondered if Mulder had any idea what was in store for him. He wondered what Walter had in mind.

Walter had actually given him no indication as to how they would proceed when Mulder came back; just that he'd have to take a learning step, and that Walter would help him resolve that denial/acceptance issue once and for all. Walter hadn't wanted to dwell on it, keeping things focused on enjoying their time together. In a strange way, the benefit of his having left had been an even stronger cementing of his and Walter's relationship. It had bonded them together in a way that made him secure enough to withstand the reintroduction of Mulder into the equation. Which in itself was no mean feat: Mulder and he still had a tumultuous dynamic under the best of circumstances.

But once they sat down to dinner and were eating together, the three let thoughts of the future evening fall away and just enjoyed the happiness that seemed to have infused the entire house. Mulder lapped up the fact that they were all there, together again. He was behaving like a repentant puppy that didn't want to be sent back out to the doghouse again and was determined to be good for the rest of eternity. Scully's words had never left him and continued to haunt him: you get out of a relationship what you put into it. It will only work if you want it to.

Walter was enjoying the stability and solidity of having both of them under his care once more, as they should be. He had no reservations or remaining doubts now that this was going to work, even if he had to drag both of them along kicking and screaming.

Alex was riding the wave, no longer expecting anything from anyone, least of all himself, simply enjoying the house itself and the fact that it existed, with all three of them together within. He felt he had finally come home.

With the combined, renewed determination of all three to make their situation work, it was little surprise that they found the tension had been defused almost completely. By the time evening found them in the living room in their usual accustomed seats, Walter with his book and Mulder gnawing on the occasional sunflower seed, things had returned to a semblance of normalcy and safety. There was no denying the underlying current of a more intimate reunion, however. The affection and the gladness had grown infected with hungry glances and longing looks that dared not be interpreted as demanding.

Walter was as fully aware of the humming level of it as the other two, and when it had reached the point where it seemed someone was going to crack and say something, he pointedly said to Mulder, "You haven't unpacked yet. Don't you think it's about time you moved back in?"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks, I'd forgotten about that." He got to his feet, stretched and went to his suitcases and bags.

Alex joined him. "I'll give you a hand."

Together, they staggered up the stairs. Alex was standing in the doorway, shaking his head. "You really packed everything you own," he said, a little bemused.

"I just happen to own more than you do," Mulder pointed out. He stopped, his breath catching as he felt that lump in his throat return. He'd come so close to never seeing him again.

Alex abruptly found himself rushed and enveloped in another embrace. With a small, surprised laugh, he hugged him back. "Hey."

"I thought I'd lost you," Mulder said, over his shoulder.

"I didn't think you wanted me," Alex explained, slowly, not wanting to get too deeply into this.

Mulder pulled back and met his eyes. "I do. I do, Alex."

Alex nodded. And smiled.

Mulder turned and stepped away, returning to his bags. "I'll be down in a bit. I just want to get all this put away. I won't be long."

"Okay." Alex turned and left him to it, going back downstairs.

Walter looked up at him as he sat back down. "Everything all right?"

"More than." Alex looked back at him however, a question in his eyes. "I think he's worried, though."

Walter nodded. "He's still not sure how to be with both of us at the same time, now that things have changed. But he will, once he's healed things with you."

Alex raised his brows. "Oh?"

Walter nodded again, a little smile gracing his lips. "Trust me, Alex. It won't take long."

A swift recollection visibly crossed Alex's face. "I never gave you your Christmas presents-"

Walter grinned. "No, we never did get to exchange anything, did we? Mulder and I didn't, either. It all blew up before Christmas. How about tomorrow? We can do it after dinner or something."

Alex chuckled. "In that case, I have some things to do. I'll be in my room. Uh, do you have wrapping paper?"

Walter pointed at the little storeroom beneath the stairs. "Try that one. And there are scissors in Fox's desk. Unless he packed those, too," he added.

Alex went upstairs bearing gold and silver foil paper and shut his bedroom door. By the time Mulder came back down, Walter had become quite engrossed in his book once more.

Mulder threw himself down onto the couch lengthwise and grabbed up a handful of seeds to resume munching his way through the bowl. "Where's Alex?"

"Upstairs."

"What's he doing?"

Walter put down his book and regarded him. "Wrapping presents. We're going to have the belated gift exchange tomorrow. After dinner, I thought. What do you think?"

"Sounds good."

Walter had picked his book back up again.

Tentatively, Mulder said, "Walt?"

Walter suppressed a sigh and bookmarked his page. "Yeah?"

"Are you angry with me?"

"No. But I think Alex is."

Mulder thoughtfully chewed on his lower lip. "I'm sorry, you know. I am. I think I was so busy worrying about his actions that I was avoiding looking at my own. You were right in the very beginning, when we started this thing. I always project my issues onto the object of them and then lash out at them. Like with you in the hallway that day."

Walter gave a single laugh. "You will never have any idea how surprised I was, to find you suddenly throwing yourself at me, hitting me in the mouth, out of a clear blue sky with absolutely no provocation. It took me a while to figure out that one. Of course, it got a little clearer after I heard you were high at the time and not exactly in possession of all your reasoning faculties."

Mulder swallowed. "And it also explains why I always hit Alex."

Walter sat there, waiting.

So Mulder gathered himself and tried to continue. "I wasn't able to do a lot of thinking about it while I was at Scully's, but it all sort of came together on the flight back up here. I - I owe him, for taking it out on him. Especially once he came here and... I guess I was apologizing for the wrong things. Or at least, not all the things I should have. And I didn't appreciate what he'd been through, to get to the point of being able to stay here with us, or place himself at my mercy, to ask for forgiveness."

Walter nodded. He stood up and began taking off his belt. Walking over to where his lover glumly sat, he said, "I think you know what to do with this." He handed his belt to Mulder who looked up at him in surprise.

"What? What do you mean?"

Walter shrugged. "If you don't know, then you don't deserve him." And he went back to his comfortable chair and sat down, picking up his book and seemingly dismissing Mulder from his thoughts.

Mulder sat, holding the belt in his hands, simply looking down at it for a long time. So long in fact that Walter, surreptitiously regarding him from time to time in between paragraphs, began to worry that he was going to balk. But eventually, Mulder shuffled to his feet and murmured something about seeing him later. It was hard to catch exactly what he said. Walter breathed a sigh of relief.

Alex was putting the finishing touches on one of the presents for Mulder when the knock came on his door.

"Wait, just wait a minute," he called, quickly putting the other presents out of sight and the wrapping paper too. "Alright, come in."

Mulder stood there, a weird look on his face. Alex regarded him. Mulder looked zoned. He wondered what the hell was up. "What?"

Mulder shifted uncomfortably, almost fidgeting. He came in, closed the door behind him and folded his arms in front of him. "I've come to apologize. Properly, this time. I'm sorry for taking out my problems on you. I abused your friendship, your trust. You wanted forgiveness from me and I never gave it. I couldn't, because I was still feeling guilty about - about not being able to ask for your forgiveness."

"My forgiveness? What for?"

Mulder looked down at the carpet. "For hitting you every time our paths crossed, for using you as my punchbag, the recipient of all my frustrations. Will you ever be able to forgive me for that?"

Alex slowly nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so. So - you forgive me, now? And we can leave all that behind at last? We won't have to keep going over it again and again? I mean, I'm not going to have to sit through another session with you in, say, a week from now, hearing about how I can't change and haven't changed?"

A self-mocking smile twisted Mulder's lips. "No. I promise. No more lectures. I forgive you."

"Well, great. That's - that's great." Alex stood, waiting. He wasn't sure what more Mulder was expecting here with this.

Then Mulder uncrossed his arms and let them fall back to his sides.

Alex saw what he was holding. His eyes narrowed.

Mulder held it out to him, coming forward a few steps to hand it to him. Without a word.

Alex's first reaction had been withdrawal and suspicion but now the world had suddenly flipped over on its axis as he realized what Mulder had done. He held the belt, familiar leather - it was Walter's, and he said, "Mulder, are you sure?" He frowned at him, wondering how serious Mulder was about this.

Mulder nodded. And still without saying anything, he went to Alex's bed and pulled down his jeans and his shorts, kneeling on them. Facedown and forward, waiting for Alex to...

...To punish him. Alex wondered if he could. He never, ever, not once in all their acquaintance, had ever actually wanted to strike Mulder. Not his Fox. His pretty Fox... No, that was for Fox to do to him. But things had shifted, irrevocably. And he realized it was the only way to clear things between them; just as Walter had helped him when he'd first come here, by dispersing his guilt and shame cycle he'd been on, thinking that he deserved Mulder's blows... Now it was time to do the same for Mulder. Because in a way, the only reason Mulder had hit him was because it was the only way he could allow himself to touch Alex - and was ashamed to face that. Of course, that hardly justified beating anyone, attacking them or hurting them. So. Alex's eyes narrowed purposefully and he folded the belt in his hand. And stepped forward.

Mulder took a breath and held it as he heard Alex move closer. He tensed. Of course, nothing prepared him for the actual blow. He gasped. Fuck. The pain billowed and bloomed all over him, centered on the nearly wet stripe of fire that stripped across his ass. He hadn't realized Alex was that strong. He gulped.

Then the next one came, and the next, fast on its heels, and Mulder was crying out, flinching, trying hard not to move away from them.

Alex nearly dropped the belt, unable to believe that he had actually hurt him. He wanted to drop to his knees and beg him to take it away from him, to punish him instead. After all, he deserved it far more than Fox did... The way he was kneeling there, shaking and whimpering, it was too much.

Too fucking much; he had to bite his lip to stop himself from saying anything. And then found himself thinking, but he came up here and brought you the damn thing, he fucking handed it to you himself! He needs it.

Two more landed now in quick succession and Mulder was sobbing, the shame of it mingling with the pain as he shifted away, unable to stop himself from doing so.

With a burst of crystal clarity, as he raised the belt again, Alex realized that he actually needed this more than Mulder did. It was more than 'forgiving' him and helping him feel better about his 'misbehavior and bad attitude'. It was a way for both of them to find an acceptable way for Alex to be able to hit him back, to at last give him back a taste of the same physical medicine that Mulder had dished out to him for years, as well as for driving him out with his unforgiving attitude.

The belt landed again, and again, over and over, evil and terrible as it seared throughout everything in Mulder that demanded he stand up and fight back, every part of him that almost yelled within his own head that he should be the one holding that thing, wielding it, using it on Alex -

Alex stopped, unexpectedly, a little taken aback at the depth of satisfaction and stored up resentment he'd found himself unleashing in this act.

Mulder was scared, reduced to a cowering, sniffling child inside, trembling and waiting for the next volley. And something broke inside of Alex's heart; he couldn't hit him any more. He just couldn't.

Mulder quivered, hating himself, hating Alex, hating the belt, and hating his own inability to withstand it. And then there was the rustle of movement behind him and to his surprise, as he jumped again, expecting another blow, there was Alex's hand at his flank, steadying him. And then the press of cool lips against his burning left buttock. It was repeated on the right and then Alex had left the room.

Cringing, swallowing his tears along with his pride, Mulder gave himself over to the sheer humiliation of it all. He felt sick inside, and not at all clean. And beneath it, the curiosity flared brighter. Why had Alex done that, at the end? The hatred he'd felt fled as quickly as it had arose and he was left with a strange emptiness. He started to painfully get to his feet. Fuck; with all his famed profiling ability and successful rate of solved cases, he couldn't figure out this one enigmatic man.

But Alex had returned and he said, in a low, husky voice, "I got the gel. Here, let me put it on you, okay?" as he shut the door behind him.

Mulder simply knelt back down in the same position; he didn't think he could bear facing him at this point.

And then there was the almost frightening cool relief of Alex's fingers gently smoothing the salve on his sore ass. In fact, the tender and solicitous way in which Alex was smearing it across the seared areas was even nicer than the way Walter usually did it. He didn't trust himself to speak yet though.

"I forgive you. And I'm sorry, for everything. I truly am. I love you, Fox," Alex said, in the same honey-and-gravel tone that trickled down into Mulder's body, bypassing his thought processes with images of breathless moans and memories of fucking Alex in the dark.

Mulder had to concentrate on what Alex was actually saying. And realized that it had been a lot harder for Alex to do what he'd just done than Mulder had assumed. Maybe that was the motivation behind those two little kisses� "Me too, Alex. I love you, too."

Alex moved behind him. "Why don't you pull these up now?" He began pulling at Mulder's shorts and jeans. Mulder got up and slowly hissed as he carefully drew them up and fastened his jeans. He still wasn't sure what to do about looking Alex in the eye. But he found himself spun round and hugged. Tightly.

Mulder returned it, letting the anxiety drain away, replaced with comfort and exhaustion. Then, something occurred to him. Something� niggled in the back of his mind. What -

Oh, yes. This was all very well, but Walter�

Mulder suppressed a feeling of misgiving. It stemmed from the knowledge that Walter hadn't actually punished him, yet. He winced, wondering if Walt would do so tonight. Maybe he could plead leniency and wait until tomorrow, although he doubted his ass would be any less sore then. But perhaps that was part of the punishment. Along with the dread.

But then, he was paranoid. And just because he was paranoid doesn't mean that he wasn't going to be spanked by Walter. He had every good reason to imagine it would happen... He'd have thought something was wrong if it didn't. A bitter humor darkened his smile. And Alex was looking at him.

"What is it?" A noncommittal tone, not sure what to make of his expression.

He shook his head, quickly. "Not you; just thinking about Walt. I don't think the night is over."

Alex bit his lip and shared the wry smile. "Yeah. I didn't even think of that. I'm sorry. Maybe I should've held back a bit, there-"

"No, no," Mulder said, "it's alright. Don't worry about it. Listen, Alex," he changed tack again, suddenly, "do you think you could - just tell me to shut up if I start up again? Or ignore me when I say or do something that�" he trailed off.

Alex shook his head. "Don't worry, Mulder. It's alright. Things have changed. I've changed. And I think you've changed, too. So just - don't worry about it."

Still doubtful, Mulder nodded. He took a breath. "Shall we go down, then?"

Alex smiled. "No offense, Mulder, really. But I'd rather be on the receiving end." At Mulder's surprised and then horrified look, Alex added, "Believe me; one of Walter's whippings is far less painful than one off-hand remark from you." And he leaned forward, taking hold of his arm again and kissing him on the cheek. Then on the other one. And then on his lips. "Come on."

As they went downstairs, the dread grew in waves and settled in the pit of Mulder's stomach to gnaw on his nerves. He knew something momentous had just happened between them and he didn't even have time to ponder it or even assimilate it subconsciously at the moment because he had this - this threat awaiting him.

Sure enough, when they got to the bottom of the stairs, Walter was no longer reading and he was no longer sitting. He looked up at them, looking from one to the other. Mulder held out the belt, handing it back to him. Walter took it, hefted it in his hands for a moment and then instead of sliding it back into the loops on his jeans, merely let his hand hang at his side, still carrying it. Mulder grimaced.

"Fox? Are you alright?" Walter asked.

"My ass hurts," he retorted.

Walter couldn't help a grin. "I'll bet. Alex, I didn't know you had it in you."

Alex snorted and went to sit in his chair. "Neither did I."

Walter was looking at Mulder though. "Fox." He took a breath before continuing. "Whatever happened between you and Alex upstairs, remains there. And I told Alex that if he ever ran from us, that I'd find him, and give him the biggest spanking of his life. He's been punished for running. But there's still something outstanding."

Alex turned to look at Mulder too. They both waited to see what he would say. He felt on the spot and then, from out of nowhere, he recalled it, word for word. Walter saying to him, that the next time he got out of line, he would punish Alex instead of him... And he gulped. Audibly.

Walter smiled. It wasn't a particularly pleasant smile, either. "You remember."

Mulder flicked a glance at Alex. Jesus, no. He stared at Walter with a mute appeal.

Walter gave a little shrug. "I did warn you. And considering the severity of the repercussions that your little bitching session, your tantrum, had on Alex and all of us, I think it will be quite a heavy punishment, indeed. Don't you?"

Mulder felt torn. On one hand, he did not want to have his already painfully sore ass to be torn into yet again under Walter's relentless hand. On the other, he couldn't bear to simply pass it off onto Alex when in fact he had been the one who'd made him run in the first place. And caused all three of them heartbreak and torment for weeks on end. Because of his stupid denial of his feelings for Alex... and his inability to let go of the past. Alex had been through so much, and mostly on his account - he couldn't bear it. Not now, not when they'd just got back together and all seemed like it might finally be ready to work between them here. He closed his eyes. This was like a bad dream.

He opened them again, finding Walter and Alex still waiting, looking a little more sympathetic than before. He pressed his lips together, displeased. "No. I can take my own punishment."

Walter sighed. "Very noble of you. Especially considering your current state. I don't think you can even sit down right now, can you?"

At the mere thought of it, Mulder winced.

"And Alex here really is able to take more than you can. Fox, I know this is going to be hard for you, but that's the point. Maybe if I prove to you that I mean what I say, that I don't go back on my promises, as in this case, you'll think a little longer before dashing into danger, and leaping before you look. Thinking before you speak. Yeah?" Walter didn't look menacing at all. He looked tired and reconciled to the necessity of this impending... spectacle.

For he knew Walter was going to make him watch. There was nothing he could say. No way he could plead with Walter not to do this.

Walter was struck dumb at the depth of the despair and hopeless entreaty in Mulder's eyes. He hadn't expected him to react like this. Not until after it had happened. Incredible. The man never thought twice about lashing out at Alex, physically or not, when his temper snapped, but just the hint that someone else lay a hand on him and Mulder was dying in front of them, willing to undergo the most terrible price to avert Alex's pain. He shook his head in complete disbelief.

Alex was lost, looking from one to the other, growing more dismayed with each passing second. Not only did things look heavy, they were taking on an ominous note. He had no idea what it meant but he was sure that anything that could scare Fox that badly couldn't be good. He was about to intercede and insist that Walter not carry out his threat, whatever it was, when Walter suddenly looked at him, directly. He sat up straighter.

"I warned him, a few days after you had arrived, that if he ever crossed the line again with you, that there would be a severe punishment - given to you, in his place."

"Oh, right. Yeah, I remember that." Alex relaxed.

Mulder was dumbfounded. How could Alex simply blow that off? Didn't he know Walter was serious? And then it clicked: Alex did not feel the same way that he did about discipline with Walter. He didn't regard it in the same fearful way that Mulder always had. For Mulder, it was an honest deterrent; the slightest hint of it remained something he wrestled with. Partly because of the humiliating shame of it, of needing it, and partly from the pain of the act itself. It wasn't pain, per se, but the combination of both, and then to be doled out by Walter, who he had associated with authority and as his superior for so many years prior to their relationship...

And Alex got off on it? Damn it, Alex was a willing accomplice to this! Resentment flared within him again. He felt betrayed by both of them. This - this horrible charade; if they wanted to play it out, fine with him. Mar a perfectly beautiful evening that should have been spent upstairs reacquainting each other with the depth of their passion. Fine. He frowned. "Fine. Do your worst."

Walter sucked in a breath at his bravado and cavalier attitude. "Fox, are you sure you want to play it this way?"

Mulder sneered slightly, burying the little hurt he felt at the fact that Walter wanted to play discipline games at a time that was so crucially delicate. "I'm game, if you are."

Alex's eyes had widened slightly. He hadn't missed the subtleties here, either between Mulder and Walter, or from Walter himself. He was willing to go through this for Mulder, on his behalf. He could understand what Walter's intentions were. But it didn't mean he was pleased about it. A loving spanking administered by Walter in an erotic setting was one thing, a caning in front of Mulder was entirely something else.

Indeed, Walter was looking at him rather anxiously. "Alex? Can you handle this?"

When put like that, however, and seeing as Mulder so obviously was ripe for it, Alex grinned at him. "I guess I'll have to, won't I?"

Fuck, even I didn't think it would get this twisted, Walter found himself thinking as he turned and went to the closet beneath the stairs.

Mulder and Alex watched him without moving or saying anything.

When he turned to face them however, Mulder gaped and a cold shock ran up and down his spine. "No," he said, weakly, as he caught sight of what Walter held.

But Walter was already coming forward, carrying his cane. "Mulder, sit down. No, over there, on the couch. I said, sit the fuck down." He didn't sound angry, just forbearing; his AD voice, like almost bored and slightly irritated, before the AD really started to get pissed but not quite there yet.

He waited until Mulder had managed to seat himself, with difficulty given the soreness of his condition. Then motioned to Alex to go to the couch, beside Mulder. "Take down your pants. And the shorts. And kneel over the couch."

Mulder bit back a caustic remark. It was hardly fair though, to have Alex right beside him. Jesus. This was going to be hellish. Then his eyes hardened. Fine; if Walter wanted this, he wouldn't deny this for either of them.

And the rat bastard; pretty as he was, if he didn't care about his own ass, why should Mulder? But Christ, Alex had no idea what he was in for.

But it was all happening so fast. Before Mulder had time to think about it, Walter had raised the cane and brought it down sharply across Alex's ass. The sound was light, terrible and far too easy, although it resounded as it connected with Alex's bare skin.

A red line appeared and although Alex didn't even move, Mulder knew it had to hurt like hell; he flinched as though it had hit his own backside. Another one landed, far too quickly after the first. Then a third. Soon, Alex was gulping convulsively, and straining not to move. Mulder was struck with horror at the fact he was actually sitting there, not only watching it but also party to it; present not a few inches from the act. Mulder wondered if he might be cured of his voyeuristic pleasure through negative reinforcement this way.

New, thin, dark red stripes appeared, mingling with the bands laid down previously. And now Alex could no longer keep back his cries as they landed. He exclaimed with every single blow and Walter didn't seem to be preparing to stop anytime soon, either.

In a study of perfect anguish, Mulder sat frozen in place, unable to close his eyes even as it landed again and again. Finally, jerking every time the cane struck, he glanced at Alex and saw the tears running down his face. It wasn't even as if Alex was putting on a show - he was too obviously struggling to put on a brave front. Alex finally broke and as he cried out, he was saying between sobs, "Please, God - please-"

It was too much. Mulder felt nauseous. And a deep fury borne of the pain he was witnessing inside and outside of himself took control. Mulder got to his feet, snatched the cane away from Walter and shouted, "That's enough! This is sick! You're sick! Both of you! What the fuck is wrong with you!" He was nearly in tears himself, shaking as he confronted Walter furiously, not caring at this point what Walter did.

Walter looked genuinely astonished. But he quickly recovered. And quietly replied, "I'm surprised that took you as long as it did, Fox."

"Fuck you, Walter," yelled Mulder, far too upset to want to get into a psychological discussion of his reactions, Walter's reactions or Alex's reactions to the whole bleeding mess.

Walter raised his voice, making it a growl at the same time. It rumbled, and secretly, Alex was impressed - he wanted to clap, for it vibrated in his ribcage. "You tell me which is more sick, Fox! Beating a man who won't defend himself against your anger, or punishing someone voluntarily?! There is a big goddamned difference between you losing your temper, hurting someone, however slightly, and this man," he pointed at Alex, "voluntarily submitting himself to be disciplined in whatever fashion is deemed to fit his crime."

"What crime?! What crime did he commit? It's a sham! It's just part of this sick game!" Mulder shouted back, making up what he lacked in booming bass with pure rage and intensity.

Walter nodded, his voice quieter but no less threatening. "Exactly. Exactly the point, Mulder! What crime did he commit? He killed your father. Now take that cane and you decide what he deserves. For once and for all. Alright? I'm done." And Walter turned, walking away from them into the kitchen, leaving Mulder standing holding the cane with nerveless fingers.

Alex had pulled himself to his feet. He cautiously and carefully pulled his shorts and jeans back up.

Mulder stood there, feeling like he'd been struck by lightening. Fuck. He'd been set up. It was too much, too perfect. Walter had held up a mirror in front of his face and Mulder was forced to look; he couldn't look away anymore. He was shaking. No wonder he'd had a bad feeling about this. His subconscious had been screaming at him that it was a dangerous area. He threw his gaze back at Alex, who stood, unmoving, watching him warily.

Mulder turned and put the cane carefully against the table with the lamp beside Walter's chair. But like any curious soul, Mulder couldn't help picking at scabs. And he had to know. "Why? Why did you let him do that to you?" he whispered, hoarsely, almost accusingly.

Alex tilted his head to one side slightly and looked at him like he was crazy. "Fox... don't you... there's-" he paused, "Mulder, the question is, why did you let him do it to me?"

Mulder went cold. Oh, shit. Of course. "It's not fair. Talk about laying a guilt trip on someone. Alex. Alex, God, I swear, I don't get off on seeing you beaten. I swear."

Alex looked down. He had a grave expression but inside he was deliberating how best to help, what to say. "You liked it before, when you thought that even that wasn't enough for what I'd done. For what I was guilty of. What's changed? Like he said, Mulder: can you let go of the past? Can you forgive me?" And despite the fact that he'd brushed the tear tracks from his face and he realized the importance of this entire episode as part of Mulder's learning and growth, everything inside of him seemed to hang in the balance. He thought he'd mastered his voice so carefully. But what Mulder saw was, yet again, the pitifully obvious desperation in his eyes, the longing and the need for acceptance, the need for redemption and Mulder's forgiveness, the helpless and despairing - love.

Regret, certainly; guilt, most surely. But most of all, love. And a little hope. Hope that hadn't been there before today; a wary hope that was still shy, as it had been since the moment his eyes had met Alex's in the kitchen that afternoon when he'd come home.

And finally Mulder broke; a little dam burst inside him and he sank down onto the floor, sobbing. Babbling that he did forgive him, he did, he loved him, and he couldn't bear to see him hurting anymore. Not over anything. Ever. That he would never let anyone hurt him again.

Almost before he went down, Alex was there, his arm going around his shoulders and his forehead pressing close, whispering tender nothings of reassurance laced with unspoken hope and more daring affection. Kisses that licked away some of the tears. And miraculously, Walter was there, too.

Somehow, they ended up back on the couch, Mulder supported by Walter and Alex on either side. Just hugging, just cuddling. No tears, no emotional discussion or intellectual points, no psychological wrangling. Just love.

It seemed that not just one or two, but three hearts had been healed and brought closer together with the final decision in that climactic moment where Mulder had grabbed the cane from Walter.

Mulder found he wondered why it was, that the only way he tolerated Walter's judgments on what constituted his good behavior was if Walter backed it up with discipline. As loving as it was, it was still pain. And although a very effective teaching tool, Mulder suddenly realized it was because a part of him believed he deserved to be beaten. Which was of course why he'd believed Alex should therefore be beaten - for his bad behavior. Logically enough. And he found it strange that Alex should find pleasure in the act, whereas for him it was still a terrible, painful humiliation. But maybe Alex found the pain cleansing. He certainly did. Which meant that every time he gave into letting the guilt go with the punishment; he was giving his responsibility to... Walter. This brought him up short. Why would Walter do that for him? Unless he truly... Loved him. Saw the need in him. Had been watching it as a tendency in him for years now. Knew what he needed. And had been helping to actively nurse him along to the point he'd reached today, no more than half an hour ago, when he realized that he didn't want pain to be his teacher anymore.

With a swift, certain darting happiness, he realized Alex had already forsaken pain as his master and taken up love, long ago.

And Mulder just relaxed further, boneless amidst the tangle of their bodies in perfect warm contentment.

Walter was growing nervous. Mulder was completely spaced out. Alex was getting there. He had to get them upstairs. Into bed; at this point he didn't care if it was for comfort-sex or just mutual, clinging cuddlings, as long as they got there. They were both starting to look as though they were high. He managed to get to his feet, no easy task with a languorous, long-limbed Fox partially draped on him and the long legs of a beautiful rat come in from the cold adding to the pile.

But they made it up the stairs to the bedroom. Alex was making a noise that sounded suspiciously like muffled, smothered giggles. Mulder turned on him. "Hey!" he exclaimed, in mock seriousness. "You're giggling like a school-girl. Why?"

Finally, Alex had composed himself enough to manage, "Well, look at us. To anyone who didn't know better, they'd think we were stoned off our asses."

Walter grimly smiled. "He has a point. Time to remove clothing, I think."

Mulder considered this. "Our own, or each other's?"

"Hell, take your pick," Walter said, peeling off his jeans and sweater, then his t-shirt, unaware of the enraptured twin gaze of both of them suddenly gone speechless at the show. He turned at the sudden silence and then grinned. And then burst out quickly, in a voice designed to decrease their reaction time, "Last one on the bed is -" and he jumped onto it.

Mulder stared at Alex who had a dangerous grin slowly sliding onto his face. Alex beat him to it by a fraction of a second. "In the middle. Bottom-hog," finished Walter with an even more wicked grin.

Mulder raised a brow. "I'm gonna get the light," he declared, casually, as if stating that he had all the time in the world anyway, and why had they left it on in the first place.

He heard whispers in the dark though and when he toed his way back to them, there was stillness. Then he was suddenly jumped on by both of them at once, half-carried, half-thrown to the bed and leaped on by two kissing fiends. Walter attacked his legs, his knees, the soft under-part of his knee, up to nip at the tender flesh of his inner thigh. Alex was mouthing his neck, pinching his nipples and laying siege to whole territories in the regions that lay adjacent to his chest and ears. But then it became a tickling game and he ended up squirming and begging for mercy, then for them to stop, then cease and desist, then just fucking stop or he was going to kick their asses.

Finally, panting, they let him be. At least, they ceased with the tickling. "Good. A proper girlish squeal, that was," Walter commented, his hold still a bit too heavy and gripping for Mulder's peace of mind.

Alex was grinning; one could tell from his voice in the dark. "Very proper, indeed. And very girlish."

"Goddamn it," Mulder began muttering, and then lost his train of thought as Walter's mouth continued its exploration upwards along his hip, his waist and then his side.

Alex, meanwhile, was extending forays further south and ended up in more heavily forested areas than Mulder's chest, to his great delight. It wasn't long before Mulder was hard, harder, then hardest. And Mulder was gasping at the sensation of Alex's warm, wet mouth licking and nibbling gently along the stem of his cock and intermittently returning to his balls. Walter was sucking at his mouth though, keeping him occupied with a thorough rediscovery of the tender flesh of his lips and tongue.

Soon though, it became apparent that they would have to move to something greater, unless they wanted a spent Fox on their hands. Walter asked, "Right, which of us do you want on the bottom, and which on the top?"

"Can't we lie on our sides, and work it that way?" Mulder plaintively asked.

"Of course. But the question is still valid. Who's behind and who do you want in front?"

"Thought is obviously too much to ask of him, at this point," Alex commented from the dark, down below; his disembodied voice hovering over Mulder's groin.

And so it was that Mulder found himself laying on his left side, with Walter squirreling back against him, letting his erection slide and nestle along the cleft of his ass, burrowing between his cheeks to find the tiny entrance that Walter had painstakingly lubed a few minutes before, while Alex had moved up behind Mulder.

Alex was grateful for the thoughtfulness of Walter's suggestion of laying on their left sides; this way he could participate properly with his right arm. Indeed, he quickly slicked up his eager cock and aimed it right against Mulder's sweet crack, sliding home once he'd prodded a few times in the darkness, blindly. The entire venture was delicious, even as he'd hit and missed a couple of times, for the feeling of his sensitive cockhead rubbing lengthily against Mulder's waiting pucker had wrung the most interesting noises from both of them.

But then they took on Lovecraftian proportions as they more closely resembled what Mulder had laughingly called 'the three-backed-hump-beast' sometimes� only this time it was stranded, beached on its side.

As Alex thrust into Mulder, Mulder's cock was forced home into Walter; with a bit of roughly timed precision, they were finally able to find a rhythm that each could keep, without falling too far out of sync. It was Mulder who came first, unable to cope with the devastating, twin fucking of him from both sides; Alex behind him was penetrating him hard and deep, targeting his prostate with each thrust. And timed perfectly with each one, Walter would buck backwards with his hips, causing a sweating cry from Mulder as his cock was gripped inside Walter's enveloping, clenching, silky heat. But as Mulder started to erupt, the spasms in his ass made Alex crazy as the shuddering climax pulsed around his own cock and he drove fiercely forward, into him, holding him tightly. As Mulder was shooting hard into Walter, the hand he'd reached around to grasp Walter's rock-hard, drooling erection was joined by Walter's own. Together they quickly jerked Walter to completion as he came, speared by Mulder's cock.

Despite the awful promise of sticking together painfully later, they ignored the wet spots and just enjoyed each other's labored breaths as they quieted and grew even. Alex licked at the sheen of sweat that had broken out all over Mulder, kissing the back of his neck and tasting him, nibbling on his earlobe.

"I thought this was supposed to be comfort-sex," Mulder grumbled, feeling a cramp tighten the muscle of his right calf. They separated slowly, and Walter padded off to find warm, moist towels.

It was much later that Walter awoke in the night with a jerk, and on a whim, turned on the bedside lamp for a moment. Yeah, he smiled to himself, broadly, they were both there; Alex clinging to Fox's arm, burrowing into him. Mulder reaching forward for Walter's hand. They were both asleep. He was pleased - and well he might be, for he'd managed to get both of them back into the same bed with him, all three together, sans issues and pain. He smiled at them for a little longer and then turned off the light.

"G'night, Walt," Mulder whispered, nearly silently, in his ear. And Walter contented himself with leaning back and kissing him, before slipping away into the post-apocalyptic slumber that is always induced after an excavation of one's deepest insecurities. Good thing new seeds had been planted; the weeds had been pulled and the pain cut away. And the flowers there? Heart's-ease and sunflowers. And maybe a red rose or two, or three.

Next chapter - Sunflower Seeds 6: Cabin Fever

 

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TITLE: Sunflower Seeds 6: Cabin Fever  
ARCHIVE: RatB, Persuaders, Down In The Basement  
FEEDBACK:   
DISCLAIMER: CC, please sue me. Please. It would be such great publicity for slash! [g]  
PAIRING: Sk/M/K  
SEQUEL/CONTINUATION: yes, 6th and final chapter.  
RATING: NC-17 - language, slashy m/m sex  
WARNING: This one contains bondage! YAY!  
SUMMARY: Towards the end of a long winter, the days are gray and tempers start to fray. Cabin fever ensues; but with the application of a little imagination and lube, heat is not destructive.  
BETAS: Many, many grateful thanks to Candace, Lorelei and Jennie!  
NOTE: Apologies to everyone who have been hanging on for so long, for this final chapter. Thank you for your patience! I'm sorry...::sniff:: Forgive me?

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Sunflower Seeds 6: Cabin Fever  
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A white Malamute-Siberian Husky cross, Aurora was pregnant and lying on her side on the clean straw in the kennel. Alex was sitting next to her, running his hand through her fur, soothing her and enjoying the fluffy velvet of her ears as she basked in his attention. He'd grown very fond of all the dogs; he helped Walter walk them, feed them and take care of them. It was difficult though, waiting for the days to get longer and warmer. The dogs were suffering from being cooped up too long. If their attention span had been shorter, like the chickens, it wouldn't be so bad but the poor things were antsy and rowdy, needing someone to play with them. Alex was quite willing to do so. He was adjusting quite well to living here with nothing required of him but to recover from years of being on the run and his previous involvement in global conspiracies. Trauma and nightmares, dreams of running the world and keeping it from the grasp of alien talons, and the background wish that somehow, someday, he might obtain the respect and even the affection of men he'd admired. Well, one out of three wasn't bad and the nightmares were even beginning to grow tedious and predictable rather than shocking and horrifying.

Still, the boredom was beginning to take its toll on his spirits and, like the dogs, inaction did not suit Alex well. Day after day, Mulder sat with his eyes fixated on the computer screen of his souped-up laptop, engaged with God-knows-what. He said he was writing but more often than not, glimpses over his shoulder revealed scans of old Defense Department documents and ancient inter-departmental memos from Naval Intelligence and the NSA. Walter spent long hours out in the woodshed making things, fixing things and generally pottering about the house with, as far as Alex could tell, little renovations and maintenance. He was making the lodge more of a home. Which was just fine, of course, except that everyone had something to do except Alex.

Alex sighed, carding his fingers through the white silky fur on Aurora's bulging underside. She was getting close; soon, they'd have a litter of puppies to take care of. Alex needed a project. This could be the one he'd been waiting for to present itself. Still, being a glorified dog-sitter and puppy-nurse was not exactly what he'd had in mind.

The weather was unpredictable and nasty enough to warrant staying inside for days on end, and he was starting to go stir crazy from the enforced inactivity. He didn't want a toy, or pets - he wanted something meaningful, something he felt he could contribute towards and where he could see his efforts would be useful.

He sifted through the events of the last month, recalling their tender exchange of belated Christmas gifts. Their celebration of the holiday had been delayed, but the greatest gift of all had been the three of them returning to live together in this wilderness retreat.

Alex had been unable to suppress a deep surge of love for them that day, realizing he couldn't bring himself to leave them again. For the first time since his childhood, he'd felt that he truly had a home, and that the word 'home' meant something more than just a roof over his head.

It wasn't in the ritual of exchange or the words they spoke; it had all been in the warmth of the smiles and obvious affection. Friends. Family. *Home*.

At a noise from the doorway, Alex looked up. Mulder was there, grinning at the picture of Alex with the pregnant Aurora. "You really love her, don't you?"

Alex fondly patted her head and climbed to his feet. "She's a beauty. She's getting close. It won't be long now." He regarded Mulder. "What is it? Were you looking for me?"

"Always." Mulder grinned at him. "Just wondering where you were, that's all."

"It's a dog-day afternoon," declared Alex, cryptically. "Where's Walt?"

Mulder shrugged. "The usual. He's in his workshop. Wait," he said, putting a hand on Alex's shoulder and pinning him with one of those curious gazes, the one that peered into the 'how' and 'why' of him, and scrutinizing for all the details in-between. "'Dog-day afternoon'?"

Alex grimaced. "The days are starting to run into one another and I'm stuck inside because of the weather."

Mulder stepped closer, a more leering smirk coming over his face. "Bored, huh? I can think of a few things to pass the time."

Alex didn't get a chance to say anything because Mulder was suddenly clasping him firmly in a full-length body press and had seized Alex's mouth in a fervent kiss.

Alex waited until they had to catch their breath and then stepped back with a chuckle. "Fox, much as the thought of spending every day in bed with you appeals to me, that's not what I had in mind."

"I wasn't thinking of bed." Mulder quirked a brow at him. "Why, you bad boy, Alex. How could you even consider thinking of anything besides sex? Maybe Walt was onto something when he threatened to chain you to the foot of the bed upstairs."

Alex gave him a wry smile. "Funny. I just mean that I... Look, you've got your writing, Walter has his house. I haven't got anything. I've gone from living in a state of intense pressure just trying to stay alive to an endless stream of days spent doing nothing at all. I'm not saying that fucking ourselves into a stupor every day isn't fun. I'd just like something of my own, that's all."

But Mulder wasn't able to concentrate on what Alex was saying. He was far too distracted by seeing Alex in the kennel and the thick, newly strewn straw was appealing, beckoning... Mulder leered at him again. "Maybe we've been limiting ourselves by keeping it confined to the bedroom?" And he possessed Alex's lips again.

This time, Alex decided to give as good as he got and Mulder abruptly found himself on his back in the straw with Alex on top of him, grinning at him. There was something so thrilling in taking charge of Mulder...

Things would have grown more interesting if Aurora hadn't chosen that moment to cover Mulder's face with her wet, slobbery pink tongue.

Walter came inside the house to find Mulder washing his face in the kitchen sink. "What happened to you?"

"The dog licked me," Mulder groused. "Everywhere. Halitosis. We've got to do something about Mrs Dog-Breath in there."

Walter smiled. "Cute. And your face was near enough for her to lick because...?"

"Aurora's nearing her time," Alex said, behind him.

Walter turned. "Well, I'd give her another week."

Alex sighed.

Walter heard this and looked at him, slightly puzzled. "What?"

"He's bored," explained Mulder, drying his face with a towel.

Walter frowned. He took in Alex's slight scowl. "Let's have lunch."

Mulder raised a brow. "It's nearly four."

"Okay, okay. Teatime," Walter groused. "Whatever. We missed lunch in any case. I'm hungry and your stomach is talking." Turning to the fridge he got out cheese, a pot of stew that he'd put in the night before and several beers.

Mulder placed a box of crackers on the kitchen table. "Mustn't forget these." He began to put out bowls and spoons, too.

Alex stood with his arms folded before him, resolutely, in silence.

Putting the stew on the stove to heat up and retrieving the bottle opener from the drawer, Walter sat down at the table and opened three beers. "Sit down," he said. "Let's thrash this out."

Alex groaned. "There's nothing to talk about. It's not like we've got an objective problem here."

"Sit," Walter repeated, urging him to join him and Mulder.

"Stay," added Mulder, entirely deadpan.

This was the final straw. "Yeah, fetch and roll over, too. I knew it. I *am* the houseboy, here. What, are you gonna fuck me on the kitchen table next, *Fox*?" Alex turned on his heel with contemptuous disgust and left the room.

"What? What did I -?" Mulder was bewildered. He threw a fearful glance at Walter. "Did I hurt his feelings or something?"

Walter shook his head. "Cabin fever. We had it last winter. Remember? He's been cooped up too long. He's not used to it."

"Well, cuddling always works for me," grumbled Mulder, wondering why anyone would pass up the opportunity for extra physical attention and affection. "And besides, we haven't done it on the kitchen table yet. It might be fun."

Walter chuckled at him, taking a swig from his bottle. "Yeah. Well, I think we made a tactical error in assuming he would be the same. He's not you, Fox. He's not used to living with other people. Actually, I'm surprised he's lasted this long."

"So what do we do? Find him a hobby?"

"How should I know?" Walter shrugged. "But I guess you should go talk to him about it and find a solution."

"Why me?" Mulder's response was dry.

Walter gave him a knowing look. "Prove to him that you don't always think with your dick where he's concerned. If he sees that you're listening to him and trying to help rather than just kissing him to keep him quiet, he'll take you seriously."

Mulder sighed and got up, slowly dragging himself out of the kitchen with inaudible mutterings that sounded suspiciously like, "Why do I always have to conduct therapy sessions with Consortium hoods?"

Walter shook his head briefly and returned to stir the stew on the burner. That was hardly fair, considering that Alex had been so much more than just a thug in the employ of the Syndicate. Walter just hoped Mulder wouldn't bait Alex this time. They'd been doing so well up until now.

Mulder sulked as he went upstairs. But he knew that he was being absurd under the circumstances. He went to Alex's room and knocked on the door. It was whipped open almost immediately. Mulder took a step back in surprise.

Alex stood there, inscrutable. "What?" he demanded, obviously cautious of any attempt on Mulder's part to placate him with cuddles.

"I was only poking fun at Walt. I wasn't trying to say that we think of you as our - our dog," started Mulder.

Alex sighed, impatiently. "Yeah, alright. So what?"

Mulder stopped. "Can I come in?"

A little smirk lifted the corner of Alex's mouth. "No, you can't. I know what will happen, see, and frankly I don't find it very productive."

"I won't touch you. I swear. Not a hair on your head," Mulder assured him, spreading his hands before him in a gesture meant to convey goodwill and a lack of lascivious intent.

Alex leaned against the door and moaned.

"Fine, okay, okay!" He sauntered back to his bed and sank down on it. "But get to the point already."

Mulder folded his arms before him, mostly in an attempt to keep his hands to himself. The sight of Alex flopping himself on the side of the bed and sulking made him want to -

Clearing his throat, Mulder said, "I've been thinking about what you said to me, earlier, about needing something to do."

"Yeah?" Alex gave him a wary look.

"You had access to all the darkest, deepest, best-kept secret projects. You must have seen all the files, the information on their genetic experiments, cloning programs - Alex, even if you didn't study it in detail, you probably have more awareness, more knowledge, of what was going on that anyone else alive today, barring someone who was actually working on the stuff, of course. But even so, you saw all of it, not just a single project or two. You could -"

"Yeah, and they were fucking nightmares, Mulder. I came here to try to forget that shit - and here you are, suggesting that I relive it. There's no way I'm going to reopen that can of worms. I'm through with it. All of it."

Stiffly, Mulder said, "That's a rather cynical attitude to take, isn't it?"

"I'd prefer realistic, thank you very much."

Mulder sighed. "All I'm saying is that you could finally learn to deal with it this way, take it from the realm of nightmares and make it something your subconscious can help you process by accepting the reality of your experiences. Work with it instead of against it."

"By writing about it," Alex began, and then the realization dawned in his mind. Mulder was cagey about his writing. To this day, Alex still didn't know what Mulder was writing and had actually not wanted to know. Now he knew why his initial instinct was to leave it alone. It had been out of character actually, that he'd found himself not snooping into Mulder's files or nosing around his desk. They were both of them far too involved in negative situations in the past for whatever Mulder was writing to appeal to Alex, especially given his feelings about the past right now.

"That's... what you're doing, isn't it?"

Mulder fidgeted, trying to keep himself from going to sit beside Alex and pull him into his arms. "It works for me."

Alex didn't reply. He had an expression that conveyed he felt like he'd inadvertently quashed Mulder. "I'm not saying that what you're doing isn't helpful - for you. But I don't want to. It's still too raw. I don't want to get into comparing nightmares with you, but I saw a lot of really evil things, things that are going to stay with me until the day I die. Writing about it isn't the cure for me. I need to live. Replace the horror with some good memories for a change."

Mulder was nibbling on his lower lip and had that trademark, intense, glazed dreamy stare of his on his face. "But you have the information, the details."

"Believe me, I wish I didn't."

"So give it to me, and let me write about it. C'mon, Alex. It'll substantiate what I'm saying and augment my theories with hard facts and information, data I've needed to complete my work! It's perfect! You can unburden yourself, give it all to me. After all, both of us understand it. We share a contextual paradigm. And I'll do something constructive with it. You don't have to relive it; it won't be like regression. Just tell me what you know, stick to the hard facts, the data."

Mulder looked so happy, so enthusiastic, Alex hated to say it. "But I don't want to think about it, Mulder!"

Mulder waved a finger at him. "Bad. Deliberate suppression - you'll just end up dreaming about it anyway. Believe me, I know. Look, all you have to do is talk. Just talk to me; I'll take notes. You don't have to relive it in bloody, horrific detail, just give me what you consciously remember and don't let yourself meander over the bad times. Keep it factual; as if you were giving me a report." Mulder was beaming at him.

"Sounds like you've thought of the perfect solution," Alex commented, unresponsively.

"It helps you and it helps me," Mulder pointed out.

Alex looked dubious but Mulder could see he was mulling it over and sure enough, Alex finally broke down. "Okay. I guess it's a plan."

Mulder grinned at him. "Shall we go back downstairs, then, and give Walt the happy news?"

"Sure, whatever," Alex said, grumpily. But Mulder could tell that Alex was feeling a little better about his position here in their home. As Alex passed by him on his way out the door, Mulder caught him by the elbow and planted a warm kiss on his cheek, then another on his neck. Alex looked up and met Mulder's eyes, which were filled with a question.

Reaching up his hand in a quick movement, Alex deftly caught Mulder by the back of the head and pulled him into a possessive, lingering kiss. Abruptly letting go of him with a grin, Alex left him standing there. It had shades of that first kiss so many years before, the one that had caused such a stir in Mulder's sublimated, impulsive subconscious previously, before the War had ended.

Damn it, thought Mulder to himself, why does he always do that to me? Ignoring the happy, frustrating twitch of his cock, Mulder sighed and resigned himself to having to recover from yet another stiffening encounter with Alex today that was doomed to remain unfulfilled.

Life is unfair, Mulder mused philosophically, silently following Alex downstairs to rejoin Walter in the kitchen.

Walter looked up from the last of his bowl of stew as they came in and sat back down. He motioned with his spoon. "Eat up. It'll get cold."

Alex said nonchalantly, "I'm Mulder's research assistant now."

Walter lifted a brow at him. "Really? In what capacity? I mean, how? What will you be doing?"

"It means that he'll bring me coffee and do my laundry for me while I work on my book," Mulder quipped.

Alex shot him a hard look. "Blowjobs are extra though."

Mulder lost his flippancy at this and actually squirmed in his seat, involuntarily. Walter began chuckling.

"Damn it, it's not funny," Mulder grumbled. "You're both cockteases and you're proud of it."

Alex regarded him, astonished. "Since when have we ever left you wanting?! Every night you have your slightest whims fulfilled by yours truly."

Walter gave him a hard look. "Fox, you are the instigator of every morning shower, every evening's entertainment, every afternoon naptime and all the little blowjobs throughout the day. The truth is that you are a nympho."

"And a slut," added Alex.

"And you love me that way." Mulder grinned, despite the fact that his face had gone hot. "Great soup, Walt," he said, quietly.

"Watch it," Walter said, gruffly. "It's stew, not soup."

But Mulder's mind had already left, gone off on a tangent now that Alex's knowledge and expertise was soon to be added to his own.

They saw the distant gaze on his face and exchanged a groan.

"I'll do the dishes," Alex said, trying to find a way to delay the inevitable.

Walter shook his head. "Go ahead and get started. You both have a lot to do, I think."

After they'd finished eating, Mulder led Alex over to his desk and sat him down in front of the laptop. He pulled down the files that he had composed, all the chapters of his outline based on the information he'd had access to before, and the final conclusions he had come to regarding the War, the Syndicate and the projects, the aliens and the oiliens, and the final outcomes towards the end.

Mulder went to sit in the couch while Alex read. Nibbling on sunflower seeds while he waited, he watched Alex's face while Alex scrolled down the pages.

At first Alex cleared his throat occasionally. Then he began to cough intermittently. And as Mulder suspiciously regarded him, Alex chanced to flick his gaze over at Mulder where he reclined on the couch and it was too much. Alex burst out laughing.

To his credit, Alex tried to contain himself, but as he continued to read, it just got funnier and finally he had to push back from the desk, overcome with laughter.

Mulder stared at him. "What is it?"

With a broad grin on his face that he couldn't wipe away, Alex managed, "Well, Foxy, I don't quite know how to tell you this, but..." His voice died away. And he started laughing again.

Mulder was starting to feel like a fool. He grew angry. "Just what is so damned funny?"

Alex was shaking his head. He stopped laughing, cleared his throat a few times. "Mulder," he said, and sighed. Then chuckled and started again. "Mulder, you've got very interesting conclusions, but you really don't have the right answers. I can see we've got our work cut out for us." And he grinned again, a resurgence of stifled laughter threatening to overwhelm him again.

Mulder sat and folded his arms across his chest, fuming. "Well, isn't it lucky for me then that you happen to be here?"

Nodding vigorously, Alex said, "I'll say. None too soon, too. Thank God I got involved before you spent much longer on the same track, going down the wrong road." He looked over, taking in Mulder's embarrassed and angry expression. "Don't worry, it's not that bad. I'm not laughing at you, Foxy. Just, give me a few hours here, and I'll give you what you need to know to fix this up and have it resembling something a little closer to the reality. There are some things you need to know."

Rolling his eyes, Mulder muttered, "After all these years, finally. You realize that's precisely what I was trying to get you to do all this time? Waiting for you to give me the truth?"

Alex pursed his lips, shaking his head slightly as he continued to scroll and skim over what Mulder had so far. "I would have endangered you if I'd told you before now," he said, absently.

But soon the seriousness of their subject overtook them and Alex found himself actually happy to be relieving himself of the burden of what he'd carried in his head throughout the years past, especially to someone as enthusiastic and comprehending as Mulder.

Walter looked in on them later on. "Dinner's nearly ready," he said. The two looked up at him as he came in the room.

He had to smile. They looked like two conspiring teenagers, wide-eyed and intense. Walter went to stand over them, peering at the screen from behind them. They quickly minimized the files. Mulder said, "Don't look yet, Walt. We're not ready to show you yet."

Dryly, he asked, "So you two can work together after all, eh?"

Alex's lips twitched. "Seems that way."

"Yeah, who would've thought it?" Mulder said, slightly self-mocking.

Dinner was strained because both Mulder and Alex kept distractedly catching each other's eyes and murmuring odd phrases back and forth. Walter found it began to get on his nerves. But he didn't want to interfere with this newfound rapport they seemed to have forged. God knew it had taken long enough to get them to this point. No, he needed to let them work it out. Meanwhile, it seemed like he was going to have plenty of spare time on his hands. Alone time.

They disappeared soon afterwards, with promises of doing the dishes later. Walter went out to his little shed, his workshop, to work on the new set of bookshelves he was making for the living room. Alex's collection of books required more shelf space than they currently had.

In the living room, Alex was scribbling notes on a pad of paper as he scrolled through the final chapter of Mulder's outline.

Sitting beside him, with his knee pressing into Alex's, Mulder was smiling fatuously at him.

Alex gave him a suspicious glance. "What is it?"

"How can I repay you for helping me with my book?"

Alex shrugged. "Didn't really think of it like that, you know. This gives me something to do. And like you said, this helps me just as much as it helps you."

Mulder was smiling at him. "Oh, come on. Don't be a spoilsport. Let me pay you back somehow."

Alex raised a brow at him. "What did you have in mind?"

Mulder got up, turned and slipped to his knees before Alex, placing his hands on either of Alex's thighs.

Mulder was grinning up at him. "You know I love to use my mouth on you. Besides, I have an oral fixation. And right now, it's fixated on you." Mulder ran his hands down the insides of Alex's legs and began to push his knees apart.

Alex sucked in a breath. "Mulder, this is just like you. The moment we start to talk about aliens or conspiracies, you get turned on. It's a miracle you ever got anything written at all. This stuff must be like porn for you."

"Actually, having you here is porn for me," Mulder said quite honestly, as he began to unbutton Alex's jeans and pulled free Alex's semi-erect cock.

In a strained voice, Alex said, "I've noticed."

Mulder licked along his length, repeating the action and causing Alex to go slowly rigid. Chuckling wickedly, Mulder said, "Waste not, want not. I guess I better take care of this, now that I've got you in this state."

A groan was his only answer, as Alex slid down slightly in his seat, giving Mulder more access, and room to move.

Mulder leaned down once more, this time to mouth Alex's balls, first one and then the other. The soft silken tongue and hot breath was driving Alex crazy. Alex was so hard he ached. It never paled for Alex, this act. Alex supposed it was because Mulder seemed to throw everything into it, wholeheartedly. Mulder so obviously enjoyed it that seeing the look of pleasure on Mulder's face made the experience even more delicious for Alex. Somehow, it was more than just a blowjob, because for Mulder it was an act of hunger and worship, and for Alex it was always a physical culmination of long-held desire that had been years in the growing.

"Why - why do you like doing this so much?" Alex gasped, as Mulder's soft, plush lips enfolded him in a wet, slick heat that made him nearly regret having asked.

Mulder lifted his head and gave him a predatory smile. "Because you give it up so sweetly." And he sucked Alex back into his mouth in one smooth stroke, causing Alex to gasp for air and swiftly move his right hand to clutch at Mulder's head.

Mulder was enthusiastically pulling and kneading while simultaneously thrashing at the head of Alex's cock with his tongue. With one hand cupping Alex's balls and the other between Alex's legs, long fingers teasing his perineum, Alex didn't stand a chance of lasting very long. The full assault had Alex finally emitting a low keening wail and then Mulder found himself rewarded with a series of jets of cream as Alex helplessly bucked against him.

Wasted and wrecked, Alex leaned his head back with a sigh. Catching his breath and letting the little glowing sparks of pleasure in his body melt away, he ran his fingers through Mulder's hair as Mulder gave a few lingering and loving licks upon his softening member. "Fox," Alex said in a hushed voice that seemed to coil intimately around Mulder's own cock, "I'll return the favor, but not until we've got some actual work done. Okay?"

Ruefully, Mulder looked up at him from where he still knelt. "I guess I should have known. How about a deal? A blowjob for every five pages I manage. How's that?"

"Ten," Alex grinned, pulling his jeans back up.

Mulder scowled and got to his feet, clambering back up to his seat to sit beside Alex once more. And found himself being hugged fiercely, and kissed on the cheek.

"I always knew we'd make a good team," Alex whispered. "Now that I know what I was missing, I really wish I could've been your partner all those years."

Mulder shook his head. "It's a good thing we weren't, you know. We never would have got anything done." He swallowed and tried to ignore the stiffness and tightness of his confined cock, trapped as it was and neglected. He wondered how long he would have to suffer before Alex would relent.

Walter continued to slave away on the shelves. He enjoyed working with wood. And the motions were therapeutic. The feel of the wood under his hands felt good. But in a quiet corner of his unoccupied mind, he found himself wondering why he suddenly felt like he was the one on the outside, now that Mulder and Alex were finally working together. He realized that they'd spent many years to get to this point and that it was a healthy step in their relationship. But now that it had happened, he found himself regretting it. He wasn't really needed anymore, was he? Not with the two of them on the same page, having worked out their differences and cooperating for a change. He sighed to himself. He couldn't allow his own personal selfishness to get in the way of their healing process.

He threw himself into building the shelves with renewed concentration. The time was passing and he felt outside of it, removed from the world. It was very late by the time he decided to finally quit and go back inside to bed.

He fully expected them to still be engaged with their work, but the living room was dark. Frowning slightly, he went upstairs. Everything was dark and quiet. Hell, they had probably gotten so involved they'd exhausted themselves. It was way past midnight, after all. He ambled into the bathroom and took a leisurely shower. When he was done, with his towel wrapped around his hips, he walked back along the hall to the bedroom, noticing that the night was very, very still. It was almost too quiet.

As he opened the bedroom door, he let out a muffled exclamation of surprise as a blanket was hurled over him and he was rushed by two strong men in the dark.

Borne to the bed and not really knowing how much he ought to be resisting, Walter let them fumble about in the darkness. He found himself held down with someone heavy on his legs while deft hands finished fastening his wrists with the leather cuffs that they'd installed on either side of the head of the bed a week before.

Realization dawned. "Uh, guys? What is this?"

The bedside lamp turned on and there stood Alex, smirking down at him with a pleased expression at their handiwork.

Mulder was still seated on his legs. Mulder was also smiling at him. The smile broadened when Alex ordered Mulder, "Take off his towel."

Walter found his towel drawn away from him, exposing him.

Neither of them had shown this kind of initiative before. But something was growing clearer. "Let me guess. You thought I was feeling left out so you've decided to make it up to me."

With a glint in his eyes, Alex regarded Walter, his lips shiny and that damnably sexy smirk still curling his mouth. "Something like that."

The way Alex spoke and with his take-charge attitude, and Mulder assisting him, sent a frisson of anticipation along Walter's spine. Besides, these two had devious imaginations.

He licked his lips. "So what's on the agenda?"

"You are," chuckled Mulder, sitting up slightly to toss the towel to the far corner of the room.

Alex's gaze came to rest on Mulder.

"Mulder, take off your clothes."

Walter sucked in his breath, not only at the way that Mulder slowly began to obey, but also at the tone of Alex's voice. This was good. It was too good. He just prayed they'd keep it up to the end.

Mulder began slowly removing his shirt, remaining where he was, holding Walter's gaze.

Alex waited until Mulder had finished taking everything off, then leaned down and said lowly in Walter's ear, "He's... magnificent, isn't he?"

Walter got the impression that it didn't really matter if he agreed or not but he nodded anyway. So did his cock, rising a little and lifting its head.

Alex saw this and smiled. He leaned closer, letting his breath tickle Walter's ear. "Nice. But I can tell that you aren't taking this seriously. We should raise the stakes, don't you think?" He straightened, and said curtly, "Mulder, use your mouth on him. Like you did to me, earlier."

With a happy sigh, Mulder leaned down, scooting back a little and with his hands on Walter's hips to steady himself, began to lave Walter's cock with his tongue. Soon, his cock was straining reddish-purple and desperate for Mulder's tongue to do something other than tease him. But Mulder merely followed some pre-arranged plan and moved downwards with his active tongue.

Walter held his breath. With Mulder nuzzling against his balls and Alex hovering over him with that self-satisfied and commanding expression, he knew he wasn't going to last very long.

But just as it got really good, and he thought Mulder might bring him off, Mulder raised his head to Alex with a questioning glance. Alex nodded.

Mulder slipped something down over Walter's cock. Walter groaned as he realized what they were doing. "You don't need to go through the motions," he pointed out.

"Sorry, big guy," Alex said. "I'm afraid it's quite necessary just now. You don't seem convinced that this is just for you."

Walter wrinkled his forehead. "Sure I am."

Alex shook his head slowly. Leaning down once more to speak quietly, into Walter's ear once more, he said, "I don't hear you asking for it. You're not quite there yet, are you?"

A little shiver of misgiving went through Walter at this. "I see," he commented sardonically, "It's to be torture. Give me all the attention I can stand but not enough to bring me off, is that it? Hell, you're a couple of amateurs. This is a picnic compared to what I've endured in the past."

Alex grinned. "If you're referring to previous experiences, Walt, I can assure you that I do know what I'm doing. Subtlety is a lot more effective than brute force. As I'm sure you are already well-aware." He took up something from beside the lamp and tossed it to Mulder. "Here. Spread this on him."

Lube. Right. Walter wondered just what exactly Alex had in mind. Mulder's gentle smile and loving, knowing hands began to spread the lube all over Walter's thickened, rigid length, all the way down to the base of the cockring where it held him prisoner.

Alex began to absently run his hands over Walter's chest, toying with the crisp curls there and flicking against the nipples. "Admit it, Walt. You were feeling sorry for yourself out there, weren't you? You thought we'd forgotten all about you."

Alex lifted his eyes to Mulder and casually said, "Go on. Mount him."

Walter couldn't help asking, "Fox, what has he promised you if you go along with this?" He had never seen Mulder exercise such restraint before, and after all, Mulder had to be dying to come himself after the day's intermittent encounters with Alex. Alex seemed to be able to play Mulder's sluttish desperation without even trying. Walter had come to regard Alex with some gratitude, for he'd often found himself overwhelmed with trying to keep up with Mulder's pent-up expressions of lust that had remained so suppressed for so many years.

Alex leaned down and kissed Walter, silencing him. Warm lips and no tongue, and just enough pressure to remind him that whether it was a game or not, it didn't really matter.

But it was Mulder's tight ass sliding down around his length over and over that got his attention. Walter couldn't hold back his groan, causing an accompanying chuckle from Mulder and a genuine grin from Alex.

Finally, he gasped out, "Enough, please, guys. I get the point!"

They ignored him, both of them acting as if he hadn't said anything. In fact, Mulder behaved as though it was a cue for him to start clenching hard and then bucking upwards only to repeat it again, thrusting Walter's stiff, aching erection into his own ass with more flair.

And Alex's hand was busy pulling Walter's nipples into diamond points while teasing his mouth, never quite letting Walter have a full kiss again.

Walter's balls were starting to hurt and he begged, his voice startlingly pleading in his own ears, "Please, please, it's too much..."

Alex pulled back and regarded him, then came to sit beside him on the bed, taking up a position adjacent to where Mulder was sitting astride Walter. He glanced over at Mulder. "Okay, take it off him."

Walter was shaking as Mulder withdrew and deftly plucked the offensive ring off of his eager, pulsing shaft, only to sit on him again.

"Slowly - careful," warned Alex.

Indeed, Walter was sure he would come any moment, he couldn't hold back now that there was no longer any restraint holding his climax back from that tight ass riding him.

"Now, Fox - ride him. Hard."

The command in Alex's voice was almost enough to bring Walter off all by itself, not just the words but the tone. And he cried out as Alex's hand gripped his chin and pulled his face towards him to kiss him hard, possessively.

Mulder arched his back and his face was ravaged with a tight expression, his eyes clenched shut as he started to come, impaled on Walter's cock. Alex reached down to grab Mulder's jerking cock and pulled on it a few times, making Mulder shriek.

The sensation of Mulder coming, and the build-up of the whole scenario was finally too much and Walter came hard, shooting hotly and almost painfully into Mulder's ass with a shout that left his throat strained.

And then his world faded into simple pleasure; he was barely aware of Alex's mouth on his again. He was momentarily released and then Mulder was kissing him.

His wrists were uncuffed and Mulder disappeared briefly, reappearing with a towel to clean them up.

Walter was grinning, a big foolish grin all over his face. "Thanks," he said, fervently. "That was... different."

Alex tutted at him and shook his head. "That was a beginning. Tame, really."

Mulder lifted his brows at them. "This is one time I don't mind saying that I'm a bottom-hog."

Walter growled at him, "Fox, you are a nympho slut and you're forgetting that Alex didn't even come."

Mulder glanced over at Alex. "You didn't, did you? Need a hand?" He grinned.

Alex flinched slightly. "To be honest, I still don't relish the idea of... restraints. Not for myself, anyway. Give me some time, I'm sure I'll get used to it."

Mulder was sympathetic. "I didn't mean it that way, Alex."

Walter was turning to the lamp to switch it off. "Come on, get into bed, you two."

As they snuggled in close in the dark under the covers, Mulder heaved a contended sigh. Walter pulled him close and kissed him on the head. Then he turned to Alex and kissed him likewise. Getting up to slide over Alex and leave him in the middle of the large bed, Walter said, "Your turn, Alex. Mulder? If you would do the honors?"

Dryly, Mulder said, "You'll have to give me a few minutes."

Alex promptly scooted back a few inches until the globes of his asscheeks were pressing into Mulder's crotch. Moving his backside against Mulder slightly, he said, "How's that for incentive?" Which of course made Mulder inhale sharply, his cock stirring slightly despite its recent workout.

Walter moved in close again, taking Alex in his arms and pressing him back further into Mulder. "Love taking care of you like this," Walter whispered, before kissing Alex's lips carefully, unhurriedly.

Mulder mouthed the back of Alex's neck, making Alex shiver between them. Walter's left hand was gently working at Alex's nipples while his right hand went exploring down the soft skin of his belly, down to the dark hair and nestled length that was still so hard and unsatisfied.

It wasn't so much excitement that made Alex come when he was between them. Experience had taught both Mulder and Walter well. It was the intimacy, the loving and closeness, the warmth in their big bed that made him happy here with them. Being enjoyed between them. It wasn't just Walter's hand working Alex's hard cock, nor the ready length of Mulder's prick sliding between Alex's asscheeks and deep into his body.

It was hardly a task for either of them; the act of sharing Alex was always something that somehow created a unified experience. And here once again, they quietly affirmed the sense of belonging together by bringing Alex to orgasm in their arms, driving him slowly mad with the knowledge that he was wanted, desired - claimed.

They fell asleep in each other's arms. Walter kissed the two dark heads and then lay back with a contended sigh. As he drifted off, he thought how strange it was that after all the years and events that had transpired, they should find themselves here at last together, in this quiet place. Their home.

And unknown to any of them, outside in the night a new cluster of snowdrops began to climb their way up through the snow outside in the yard behind the house, venturing forth with brave green shoots to herald the coming of Spring.

Finis

  
Archived: July 04, 2001 


End file.
